


The Contract That Changed Everything

by Europolarist



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-30 14:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 56,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3939982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Europolarist/pseuds/Europolarist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Listener is betrayed and goes into hiding only to find out that her destiny lies elsewhere. This is a tale of the Listener, one of many potential Dragonborn, and the one true savior of Tamriel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The initial start of the main quest lines are mixed around in order to fit with Pala’s story. Every effort was made in order to ensure as much canon as possible. I’m also looking for a Beta to help keep me in line, if anyone is interested.

Chapter 1:

Pala slipped into the tree line as she raced away from Solitude. The sun was already nearing the horizon, casting long shadows on the forest floor. The dagger sheathed at her hip was still warm with blood from when she’d killed Commander Maro, less than a candlemark prior. She should have known that the ridiculous act of posing as the Gourmet was a trap; even Babette had expressed concern before Pala left home just a few days ago.

Thankful that she’d hidden her gear along the road, rather than keeping it in a room at the Winking Skeever, Pala had changed out of the white chef’s uniform and into her shrouded armor in record time as the soldier’s scrambled to find the assassin.

But it wasn’t the murder of the Commander that had her reeling, she’d killed soldiers before. His final words, still ringing in her ear, set her heart racing as he’d admitted that the Brotherhood was about to be destroyed. Leaping over a fallen tree, Pala’s heart raced as she thought about her home being attacked by the Commander’s men. With almost two days of sprinting back to the sanctuary ahead of her, it would be nearly impossible for Pala to stop the massacre of her friends and family in the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary just outside Falkreath. 

Bile threatened to expel itself from her rolling stomach as she made her way to Dragon Bridge. She hoped to be there by nightfall, when she could steal a canoe from one of the houses and take the river south. Many of the settlements south of Solitude were filled with poor farmers who could not afford the upkeep of horses and only Shadowmere could have gotten her home faster than her own feet were carrying her. 

Pala cringed at the thought that her mother’s legacy, a stallion of great ability borrowed from Oblivion itself, was now property of that bitch Astrid. She prayed to the Divines, all nine of them, that Astrid hadn’t slipped out of the caverns and taken the horse as she fled the soldiers.

Passing the path that led toward Meridia’s Shrine, Pala stepped out of the tree line and crossed the heavily trafficked road to Solitude. She knew that there was a tiny stream that came up close to the southern edge of this highway from the rocky hills nearby and Pala needed to clean herself off before anyone had the chance of seeing her. The hood of her armor shrouded her face, but the black leather was a sign of her people, a sign that an assassin walked among them.

Unsheathing her dagger, Pala quickly dipped it in the rushing stream and wiped it dry with the rag she kept tucked away. The blood had already begun to dry and she made a mental note to clean it off thoroughly when this was all over. The blade might rust no matter what she did now, but she could not waste more time on her weapons; not while her family was in trouble.

Thundering of hooves caught her attention and Pala quickly scrabbled up a nearby tree to watch the road. A small battalion of Solitude soldiers, dressed in their imperial regalia, raced along the highway. The leader ordered a group of them to head up to the Shrine, while leading the rest to Dragon Bridge.

Pala muttered a curse under her breath. It would be much harder now to procure the canoe she’d been hoping to get. The villagers would be on edge and patrols would be doubled or more as news of the assassination of the Emperor’s double raced through the villages.  
Once the retinue was gone, she hopped from her spot and headed straight for the river rather than the village. She’d have to cross it and find another place to get a boat now.

Masser and Secunda were high in the sky when she reached the river; shouting could be heard at the nearby settlement as the soldiers ordered the people of the town to open their doors for the search. They would likely be issuing her bounty to the innkeepers as well as for any information on the Dark Brotherhood. They would be too late, she thought, stepping into the ice cold waters. The Dark Brotherhood would be no more.

She swam across the river, struggling against the heavy current for a few moments. When she got across, Pala planned to get to the other fork of the river and get as close as possible before reaching Rorikstead. Hopefully she could get there before word spread too far south. Not for the first time was Pala grateful that she’d spent weeks as an apprentice studying maps of Skyrim; without those hours under her mother’s careful tutelage, she’d have been lost many times over. 

The sister moons were nearing the end of their watch as Pala reached the outskirts of Rorikstead many hours later. Knowing that it must be near dawn, she was exhausted and in need of a bed; but there was no way she could rest now. Thankfully Pala spotted a small stable at one of the nearby barns and grinned. She’d have to ride bareback; there was no time to saddle the brown and white steed. Pala was certain that the Imperial soldiers would be on her heels as soon as the dawn began lighting the sky. 

Reaching into her coin purse, Pala dumped most of her septims in the horse’s hay as she guided the mare out into the night. She might be a murderer but she wasn’t a horse thief. 

After guiding the beast out of the farm, she quickly mounted her newly acquired ride and raced into the night. The horse whinnied at the force of her order, but went along anyway. It would be only moments before the townspeople awoke to the sound; but it would be enough time to get her out of the way.

They raced along the road, not caring about the caravan of Khajiit that camped outside of the village as Pala guided the horse to their next destination. The horse struggled to keep pace with her orders, but Pala knew this was a work horse and not an infantry one.  
The sun was beginning to set on her second day of travelling, the horse ready to die of exhaustion, when Pala jump off and tied the horse to a tree just outside of Falkreath. Unsure what she faced inside, Pala was convinced she’d need a back-up plan should all be lost and the horse might become necessary. 

The Commander’s men were yelling into the twilight, not even attempting a stealthy attack as they raided the sanctuary. Pala could hear Shadowmere whinny as he fought off an attacker and the strong stench of burning wood caught her attention. She dispatched three soldiers patrolling in the woods with a few well timed dagger throws. Missing her bow, something she couldn’t very well take with her into the Blue Palace, Pala grabbed the bow off the now dead soldier and a couple of arrows that fell from his pack.  
Pala grimaced as she walked away from the bodies, her stomach churned at the sight of Festus’ corpse pinned to a tree. He’d been a grandfather to her, and had taught her everything she knew about alchemy and one of the best assassins in the Brotherhood when he’d been younger. If Festus hadn’t a chance against Maro’s men, how would she?

Quickly banishing the self-deprecating thoughts, Pala prayed that Sithis take Festus’ soul, and turned away.

Pala raced toward the entrance only to see smoke billowing out of the once locked doorway. She pulled her facemask over her lips and wished for some sort of magic to clear the smoke as she stepped into the Sanctuary.

It was hard to see anything, but Pala knew these caves better than anyone else in the brotherhood. She had, after all, been born in the room just off the entry way. Her mother had served Sithis for thirty years before her death a year ago. Pain gripped Pala’s chest and she quickly shoved it away. She had a job to do, and by Sithis, she was going to massacre the remaining soldiers. 

Already her breathing was labored as she saw two Oculatus members laughing about the traitor. One took an arrow to the heart, the other landed against the back wall, her dagger sticking out of his chest. 

Her foot hit a body, and she glanced down to see Veezara lying dead in a pool of his own blood. She nearly keened in grief over her brother’s loss, but shut her mouth to stifle the cry. He’d been just a few months older than she was when Veezara came into the sanctuary fifteen years ago and their training had coincided ever since. Promising his spirit that she would be back, Pala headed down the stairs, hoping to find more of the bastards to kill. 

The sound of clashing swords caught her attention. Someone was still alive!

She raced through the smoke filled hall to find him battling one of the agents. Picking up a sword off a fallen soldier, Pala put all her energy into a charge and nearly cleaved the agent in two as a familiar redguard fell backward from the warrior’s swing.

“Pala,” he cried in surprise.

“Where is the traitor?” she growled, kneeling at his side.

“You are the traitor,” he said, gasping for air. “You sold us out to Commander Maro.”

“No, I,” she started, panic rising in her chest. 

“If you didn’t, who did?”

“Astrid,” she said. “Come on, we need to get moving.” 

Pala lead the way through the sanctuary to look for survivors. Not finding Babette in her rooms, they headed up to the small chapel that held the body of the Night Mother. With Cicero still in hiding, after he attacked Arnbjorn, Pala was sure it was her duty to take care of the body. In the absence of the Keeper, surely the Listener’s duties would include caring for the Night Mother’s Corpse.

The Night Mother’s Voice echoed in her mind as Pala stepped into the chapel. 

“Child, come to me,” the raspy voice said. “As you saved my Keeper, I shall save you.” 

The familiar pull of the Night Mother overwhelmed Pala as she took a few steps toward the coffin. Her heart felt like it was being hugged with warmth within her chest cavity. 

Without thinking, Pala stepped up onto the altar and into the standing coffin that housed the mummified body of the Mother. The doors closed around her of their own volition and an explosion rocked the coffin as Pala’s mind went black.

Pala didn’t know how much time had passed when her eyes fluttered open to see a small broken line of light coming from over her shoulder. She could hear Nazir talking to someone outside the coffin. Pala was unable to tell much from her position save for the fact that she now lay on top of the sacred body of the Night Mother, in quite an uncomfortable arrangement. Making a fist, she banged on the wall of the coffin to attract his attention. 

Babette’s familiar voice called out and relief flooded her body as Pala shouted for help. Babette had been a mentor and younger sister to Pala, despite her age of two hundred plus years. At least one of her true friends had made it out of the sanctuary in time. Nazir had always preferred Astrid’s leadership to her mother’s and Pala was unsure how Nazir would feel now that he believed her to have betrayed her family. The only other friend Pala had was half a province away, hiding in the Dawnstar Sanctuary, recovering from his wounds.

Light flooded in around her as someone opened the coffin.

“Pala,” the vampire cried out, in joy. “You’re looking well.”

“For being buried alive with the Night Mother,” Nazir replied, holding out his hand.

“What happened?”

“The Oculatus agents left enough explosive powder in the chapel to shoot you into the great hall. You must have set off the trigger when you entered.”

“They’re all dead,” Babette said. “But Astrid still lives.”

“What do you mean?” Pala asked, dusting off her leggings in the rubble. 

“Astrid’s quarters are locked, but I can hear her heart still beating,” the child-like girl grinned. “We thought it would be fitting for you to confront her. If my intuition is correct, it is she who brought the agents to our doorstep.”

Pala nodded and turned to head back up the stairs, with Babette and Nazir following behind.

Once beside the door, Pala stepped aside to allow Babette to pick the lock on the chamber door. With two-hundred years of experience the girl-vampire had picked up plenty of useful skills.

The doors opened to reveal a nearly dead body, skin burned to a blistered-black char, sprawled out on the ground surrounded by candles in the Black Sacrament positions. 

“I knew you’d come,” the graveled voice whispered. 

“Why did you do this?” Pala said; dropping to her knees beside Astrid’s charred body. She might not have cared for Astrid’s leadership of the Brotherhood, but she certainly hadn’t wished the woman dead.

“You and that damned Keeper, you changed everything,” she hissed out. “I only wanted my Brotherhood back. But I see now that I was wrong.”

Astrid coughed.

“I prayed to the Night Mother,” she said, irony thick in her voice. “There is a new contract.”

Astrid coughed again.

“Kill me,” she said. “Grant me my last request. Kill me and end my agony. I beg you.” 

A streak of revenge ripped through Pala’s heart, but she quickly dampened it. This kill, this assassination was a death of mercy. It would take hours for Astrid to die of her wounds. Perhaps it would be fitting to allow the Betrayer to die slowly for her crimes.  
But it had likely already been hours since she’d been burned, and despite the hate that filled Pala’s soul for the woman that had killed her family, Pala knew the contract must be fulfilled.

She looked back at Babette and glanced up at Nazir before returning her gaze to the once-beautiful woman who gasped beside her. 

The Blade of Woe caught her eye, lying beside the gasping body, and Pala reached for Astrid’s blade.

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” Astrid said, the sound barely reaching Pala’s ears. “I deserved better, but so did you.”

The Blade felt heavy in Pala’s hand and she spoke a quick blessing to Sithis, asking him to take Astrid’s soul.

Her movement was quick as she drove the dagger through the 5th and 6th ribs, straight into Astrid’s heart.

“Thank you,” the dying woman said with her last breath as her head dropped to the side.


	2. Chapter 2

Three days had passed since Pala completed the contract against Astrid. Nazir, who seemed barely able to tolerate her existence, was traveling with Babette to take the Night Mother to the Dawnstar Sanctuary. It wasn’t until Pala had left the Falkreath Sanctuary for the last time that she remembered that Cicero was still alive. Nazir, she grimaced at the thought, would not like that surprise. 

Rather than joining her siblings on their journey north, Pala’s unanswered contract burned in the hidden pocket of her armor. The Night Mother had not given her reprieve.

Astrid, despite her insistence that the Tenets no longer needed to be followed, had still written the coded message down on parchment just a few weeks after Pala returned from Volunruud with Motierre’s message. The contract of course was written in an ancient Brotherhood cipher; but the enchanted parchment’s presence was considered a necessity to urge the assassin to complete the contract. When possible, the contract, complete with a black handprint, would be placed as a calling card with the body. Fire and waterproofed, it was tradition, and something Pala had insisted upon after her mother’s death.

After Pala’s last botched attempt at killing the Emperor, she wasn’t going to allow for any mistakes; even if it meant traveling to Imperial City itself. She would kill the Emperor as ordered, but would take her time to formulate the perfect plan and prepare, as opposed to rushing in as Astrid had demanded. At the time, Pala had hoped that Astrid was changing her mind about the tenets and traditions, bringing the brotherhood together as they worked on contracts. Now, in the wake of the betrayal, Pala knew better. She would plan every step of this assassination on her own.

Already she’d visited the Falkreath Imperial Camp, just a few hours north of her old home. After snooping through the command tent and finding nothing that mentioned the Emperor’s location, not that she really expected it anyway, Pala had discovered that a fair amount of the orders seemed to originate from the Rift. Either the Imperial’s ability of deceit had grown and their orders were all fabricated or their largest supporters were located in the southern district of the province. 

It was just before dawn on the 17th of Last Seed and Pala sat in the lean-to she’d built the night before. Blowing on the recently coated tip of her newly stolen arrows, she looked out into the woods around her. 

A breeze cut through her lean-to, bringing with it a familiar sense of urgency of the Night Mother’s compulsion filled her chest. The feeling, like a hand squeezing her heart, was reserved for the Night Mother’s issuance of contracts; but the fact that Pala still had an assassination to fulfill caused her to worry. Astrid’s contract had been an anomaly; the Night Mother usually gave Pala orders to dole out rather than keeping them all for herself and she never gave more than one contract at a time. 

The intensity of the pull grew considerably as Pala closed her eyes and smelled the air; it was as if the Night Mother stood at her side, the sensation was so strong. 

Pala grumbled. If the Night Mother was near Helgen, then Nazir was headed in the wrong direction and the remainder of the brotherhood was in more trouble than she thought. Pala quickly capped her repurposed ink well, filled with a nightshade poison Festus had taught her, and threw her few belongings back in her pack. 

Pala slipped the nearly dry arrows into the quiver and slung her newly acquired bow over her shoulder. Normally she’d break down the lean-to to prevent her movements from being tracked, but the compulsion was too overwhelming to ignore. She would track the compulsion despite her contract, to ensure that the Night Mother was safe.

She headed east for another hour or so, her desire to find the source of the compulsion growing stronger with each step. Just on the outskirts of Helgen, Pala realized that this was not the Night Mother’s call, but something more. Having heard the tales of the daedric princes throughout her youth, she wondered if the daedra had discovered her. If any one of the other princes suddenly gained interest in her ascension, Pala knew she might be forced to make a deal just to stay alive. It wasn’t something she wanted, but the compulsion pulled her along, despite her hesitation.

After spotting the familiar gates of the village, Pala ducked behind a tree and closed her eyes, using her training to recalling the image and visualizing the positions of the guards. One look was sometimes all an assassin would get before they had to make their move and Pala excelled at her task. Visualizing the village, Pala could recall five spots of movement along the gates, two archers in the towers above, two men guarding the actual gate, and one Imperial soldier patrolling along the wall. 

What were the Imperials doing at this bordering village? There hadn’t been Imperial soldiers in this corner of Skyrim for as long as she could remember.

Pala eased to her left and snuck through the trees while waiting for the patrolling warrior to round the corner.

Knocking an arrow against the grip, she sighted along the shaft for the soldier’s neck. From here she could kill him with a single well placed shot.

A man’s desperate scream rose from inside the gates and the sound of orders being given echoed through the clearing. 

As the soldier continued along his patrol Pala loosed her arrow as the air filled with the sound of several whipping bowstrings. The soldier fell to his knees and the rest of the village was quiet again. 

Another few moments passed as Pala planned her next move. She had to make the decision on whether to take out one of the archers in the near tower or kill both men at the gate. One action would surely alert the others and there wouldn’t be enough time to incapacitate three or four men.

A deep rumbling growl echoed through the air and Pala froze at the sound. She’d never heard anything quite so terrifying and whatever it was caused a commotion inside the walls.

Someone shouted and a shadow crossed over her hiding spot. Pala’s eyes hit the sky and her stomach dropped to the forest floor. 

Dragon.

Pala thought that all the dragons had disappeared from Tamriel. With only images painted in books from centuries ago, Pala didn’t believe she’d ever see one. But that beast that currently circled overhead couldn’t be anything but a dragon.

She gulped as it turned around and flew back to the village, breathing fire as it raced toward its target.

Battle cries and shouting exploded inside the village gates as Pala skirted the walls. She would not be following the compulsion inside the gates while that damned dragon remained. 

She climbed into a nearby tree for a better view and could see soldiers scattering through the handful of buildings in the settlement. The archers on the towers lobbed arrow after arrow at the black-hided dragon that burned the homes. Some of the solders tried to penetrate the dragon’s hide when it flew low enough and yet others ran like skeevers from a fire.

Half a candlemark must have passed while she sat in the tree watching the destruction that the dragon wreaked on the small village. Not many of the soldiers remained, as they gathered in the decimated market square, just a handful of guards looking much worse for the wear. 

The dragon seemed to grow bored, the men having done little if anything to harm the beast, and took to the skies as Pala climbed down from her perch. It wasn’t until she reached the ground once more that she noticed the compulsion growing once more deep within her chest. Something was calling her north rather than into the settlement, and without thought, Pala headed through the ever present snow toward her destination.

It didn’t take long for the compulsion to nearly overwhelm her, staggeringly tight against her heart. Finally, just as Pala felt she could no longer move forward, she spotted a clearing fifty paces from where she’d collapsed against a tree. Laying half-dead in the snow was a red-skinned dragon injured from a different attack. 

The sight of two dragons within a candlemark was enough to worry Pala. There hadn’t been sightings of dragons in generations. The frequency of the sightings was beyond terrifying. 

As silently as she could, Pala readied her bow, knocking another arrow against the arrow rest, and let it fly into the eye of the beast. Blinding it in one eye was better than missing its brain completely. She knew her arrows wouldn’t get through the thick skull of the dragon but she’d be damned by Sithis if she didn’t make sure this one never flew again. Dragons had been the blight of Tamriel before, and if she could rid the living plane of at least one, she had done her duty.

The beast roared in fury and attempted to take flight, but its left wing was shredded and he failed to catch the wind. The red-scaled monster stumbled back into the snow drift.

She shot another arrow into his exposed underside as he attempted to right himself and barely dodged the flames that shot from the dragon’s mouth. He knew where she was, and Pala struggled for position. Sparing a quick glance behind her, Pala saw the brush on fire where she’d just been standing.

He looked around with his good eye and Pala managed to loose another arrow into the air. This time it lodged into the dragon’s mouth. The dragon roared and bit down, splintering the shaft, but the damage was already done. The poison-tipped arrowhead would hopefully slow down the beast enough that she might be able to slice his neck open. All she needed to do now was survive until the poison could take effect.

Gripping the hilt of Astrid’s dagger, something she hadn’t used since the death of the leader, Pala raced toward the dragon. It flailed about, his head swinging back and forth wildly, roaring in anger or pain. Large fangs snapped in the air and Pala dodged the spikes that nearly gutted her.

It stumbled as the poison must have hit his brain, shorting out the nerves. 

Finally close enough, Pala sliced the dagger through the thinner skin along the dragon’s neck. Red blood gushed out of the wound like a river and the beast stumbled. The dragon’s flailing head struck her in the gut and Pala crumpled to the ground as the air was knocked out of her. 

Just before it collapsed, Pala rolled out of the way of his torso. Unfortunately, the damned thing’s wing pinned her to the ground as the red dragon breathed its last.

Heat filled her heart and spread to her extremities. Not unusual for her after a kill, the rush of battle could do strange things; but then outlandish music thrummed in her mind and Pala forced her eyes open to see the dragon’s body begin to burn above her. 

Terror raced through her body at the thought that she would be engulfed by whatever magicka this was. 

Within a few heartbeats, Pala pulled herself out from under the disappearing leather of the dragon’s wing. 

On her hands and knees, Pala glanced behind her as a bright light streamed out of the dragon’s bones and hovered in the air for a moment. Fear froze her solid as the light raced toward her and knocked her flat.

Pala struggled for air as the magicka consumed her. 

Without warning, the compulsion that had filled her soul disappeared. Strange whispering filled her ear and Pala knew somehow that she’d killed a dragon named Mirmulnir. The deep echoing spirit spoke in her mind for a brief moment. 

“Dovahkiin,” it grumbled. “Balaan hokoron*.”

The world went silent, but Pala could feel the weight of the dragon in her heart. His final words etched in her mind.

It wasn’t until Pala reached a road that she realized she’d walked away from the corpse of Mirmulnir. His voice echoed in her mind as she struggled to understand what he said. Tripping over a stone, Pala crashed down on the wide dirt road that crossed before her.

Glancing at the sky above did little to tell her which direction she should go. The sun was just shy of directly overhead, but she had no idea what time it really was. If it had managed to stay before noon, then she should head toward the sun. If it was after noon hour then she should head away from it. And that was only if she’d actually been walking north since killing the red-scaled dragon.

Hearing shouting to the right of her body, Pala decided to head toward the sun and away from whatever was going on. It wasn’t until she reached a fork in the road that Pala realized where she was.

It was an hour or two walk to Riverwood from where she stumbled toward the posted sign. At least in the village she could rent a bed and sleep off whatever had happened to her. 

Heading toward the settlement the earth trembled below her, causing Pala to drop to her knees as a shout echoed through the valley. 

“DOVAHKIIN,” the shout cried.

There was that word again, she thought. Pala struggled to get up off the dirt road, her legs trembling and causing her to falter.

Her stomach turned, and Pala wretched into the snowberry bush on the edge of the road. She felt like she‘d drunk the entire mead collection in the sanctuary. Her head throbbed and the world spun around her. She needed to get to Riverwood and fast before she passed out on the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Worthy Enemy
> 
> Thanks big bunches for the views and kudos! I hope you enjoyed this next chapter!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pala recovers. Short but important chapter!

Chapter 3

  
It was Harvest’s End, on the 27th of Last Seed, when Pala finally felt well enough to leave the tavern in Riverwood to head up to Dawnstar. Her plan to kill the Emperor would need to be put on hold while she regained her strength. The illness that had incapacitated her was a mystery, and Pala needed to find out more about it.

  
For the last ten days she’d been stuck in the settlement nearly in a coma as her soul fought with the dragon soul she’d absorbed. For three days straight, Pala had battled in her mind with Mirmulnir’s soul until he finally relented, giving his soul over to her will. She had a strange suspicion that she’d traveled to a plane in oblivion.

  
Pala woke a week ago in a bed in a tavern with a woman, who she’d guessed to be the innkeeper’s wife sitting on a chair nearby. The wife had told Pala of her appearance in the doorway a few days prior, asking for a room before collapsing on the floor. After making sure Pala had money to pay for a room, the woman explained that she had the bard drag her into a room off the main hall where Pala was tended to.

  
It wasn’t until three day’s later that Pala introduced herself to the woman. Or rather, that’s when Pala found out that the woman who cared for her actually owned the small inn in Riverwood. Her name was Delphine and she’d worked hard to bring Pala back to from the brink of death.

  
Pala knew better than most that good deeds in Skyrim always required payment. She’d checked her coin purse to see all of her money still inside, as well as the couple gems she’d managed to grab from Astrid’s safe. Everything was accounted for. Pala wondered when her debt would require repayment.

  
The sun was bright but the air was chilly when Pala set out for Whiterun that morning. Her plan was to get to the stables in the city where she could hire someone to take her to Dawnstar. As weak as her legs felt in the hour since she’d left Riverwood, Pala knew that the amount of time it would take for her to hike north would quadruple if she didn’t have another means of transportation. It wasn’t the first time she wished to have the ability to teleport, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Rumor had it that only the Archmage of the College of Winterhold could command such magicks. Unfortunately Pala’s magic abilities consisted only in a few quick healing spells, the rest was lost to her, confusing runes and elaborate recitations left much to be desired for the assassin.

  
Focusing on the task ahead, Pala ignored the quartet of warriors battling a giant in a farm field nearby and headed for the stables where she could hire the carriage. The old man sitting in a carriage near the stables offered to take her up to Dawnstar for a fee of 50 septims. Since half her money had gone the way of Delphine for her room, Pala managed to talk the old man into taking twenty septims and a rather nicely shaped ruby.

  
“It’s sure to get you a fair price with a dealer,” she promised. “Maybe sixty to seventy septims.”

  
He eyed the gem, holding it up to the light of the sun, looking for imperfections.

  
“I may even get double that,” he chuckled. “I’ll keep the gem; you can keep your septims.”

  
“Thank you,” she said, climbing into the back of the carriage.

  
“You ready to go now?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.

  
“Yes, sir,” she said, ready to get on the road.

  
“We should be getting there well after night fall,” he warned.

  
“That’ll be fine,” she said, leaning against the wall of the carriage, closing her eyes to let the rocking of the cart lull her to sleep. The walk from Riverwood had utterly worn her out.

  
The next thing she knew, Pala was being shaken awake by the carriage driver.

  
“We’ve arrived,” he said. His form blocked the light of a nearby lantern and Pala looked around in the dark.

  
“Thank you,” she said, sitting up.

  
“You slept the entire way up here,” the old man said.

  
“Sorry,” she shrugged, and jumped over the carriage wall.

  
“Stay safe, Nord,” he said, with a small smile. “There’s talk of assassins out here. Don’t go venturing out too much tonight.”

  
Pala smiled at him and nodded as the old man climbed back into his seat and moved the horse and buggy over to the stables near the fork in the road. It was then that she noticed that the carriage driver had dropped her off at the Inn’s doorway. He must have appreciated the gem more than she thought to give her such service; perhaps she should have bartered more for the ruby.

  
Looking around the area for any onlookers, Pala took a few steps back and melded with the shadows as she’d done for all her life. The Sanctuary was along the coast about half a mile back away from the Dawnstar Museum. She knew there was a secret entrance somewhere nearby, but she wasn’t about to go hunting for it.

  
It didn’t take long for her to spot the familiar door, the last time she’d been here, Pala had given Arnbjorn the blessings of Sithis before she hunted down the Keeper. If she hadn’t been able to smell the werewolf’s blood splashed around the walls and floor rather than his own, Cicero would have succeeded in his trap. Instead Pala had spoken with the mad Jester and eventually let Cicero go.

  
She spoke the words to unlock the door and smiled as the ward answered and the door moved open on its own. Stepping inside, the caves already smelled like home, a mix of whitecap and deathbell that Babette used to grow for Festus. Tears sprang to her eyes at the thought of the losses that the Brotherhood had incurred over the last year, starting with her mother’s death and ending with Pala’s contract to kill Astrid. It was almost too much to bear.

  
“The Listener has returned,” Cicero’s happy voice cackled in an echo through the caves.

  
The jester bounced down the nearby stairwell and came to greet Pala in his familiar way. He dropped to one knee and placed a kiss on her hand, greeting her like a revered noble rather than the street rat she was.

  
“I was surprised to see that you let him live,” Nazir said, walking toward them, his arms crossed in anger.

  
“It is my wish that the Keeper live,” she said, glaring at Nazir. “I don’t believe you’d want to take up the task of cleaning the Night Mother, would you?”

  
“Look where I’ve placed Mother!” Cicero said, gleefully keeping Nazir from responding. The Jester pulled her hand with him as he headed toward the coffin placed on an altar in the great room of the new sanctuary.

  
The Night Mother’s compulsion filled her chest and Pala wondered for a brief moment how she’d ever thought the dragon had felt like the cool touch of the Mother.

  
“You’ve changed,” the Night Mother proclaimed.

  
Unable to find her voice, Pala allowed the Night Mother to speak.

  
“Sithis is angry with you, my Listener,” she continued, anger growing in the raspy voice.

  
“You have the soul of a dragon inside you,” she hissed. “You are Dovahkiin.”

  
Pala felt her throat tighten with angst. She tried to look at the others in the room, see if they heard what the Night Mother was saying, but the Night Mother’s compulsion kept her locked in place.

  
“You cannot be Listener to Sithis and Dovahkiin at the same time,” the voice continued. “You were only meant to be mine but then Alduin rose.”

  
A hiss from an unknown location caused goosebumps to rise on Pala’s arms and the back of her neck.

  
“The World-eater has taken the best of what belonged to me.”

  
The voice changed, growing deeper and more intimidating.

  
“Sithis no longer favors the Listener. This sanctuary is no longer your refuge. Kill the Emperor as you have been commanded; but do not return lest you wish to end your miserable existence.”

  
Pala dropped to her knees as Sithis’ words crashed down around her.

  
Sithis had forsaken her.

  
“Listener?” Cicero’s voice cut through the darkness and pulled her back to the present. “Was that the Night Mother?”

  
“The Night Mother spoke to you?” she asked, turning to face Cicero, Nazir, and Babette.

  
“You betrayed us?” Nazir asked, drawing his weapon.

  
“Of course the Listener did not betray the Brotherhood,” Cicero said, his arm shooting out to keep Nazir from stepping closer. “She could never betray her family like the Pretender.”

  
Pala looked down at Babette.

  
“You better get out of here,” the youthful vampire replied. “We won’t be able to keep Nazir distracted for long.”

  
Pala turned and darted toward the entrance of the sanctuary. She saw her pack still in the place she’d dropped it only moments ago. Grabbing it and the bow and quiver, she rushed out of the sanctuary door and into the night. She’d been banished from Sithis’ side. Where could she turn now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the views and kudos. It gives me hope that I'm doing alright! Still looking for a beta if anyone is interested :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pala spends some time in Windhelm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer – some text borrowed from Bethesda/Skyrim – Join the Stormcloaks Quest

Chapter 4 

  
Summer faded into fall as Pala traveled across the northern settlements of Skyrim. Unwilling to move too far from the last of her family, despite the danger that Nazir presented, Pala worked as a mercenary for the Jarl’s of Morthal and Winterhold. Ridding the mountains of frost trolls and giants, the once-assassin found herself dwelling on the final words of Sithis. In her heart, Pala knew that the deity himself had spoken to her, denying her her place within the Brotherhood. For weeks afterward, Pala had slipped into a depression. She certainly hadn’t planned to be named Dragonborn.

  
She spent more nights than she should at the Nightgate Inn, listening to travelers and following up on the rumors of dragon sightings along the road from Windhelm to Fort Dunstad. When she could, Pala would trek out to the settlements and help the villagers rid themselves of the pestilence; but only twice had she actually managed to catch and kill the giant beasts.

  
There weren’t a lot of people who frequented the roadside inn, a perfect place for an ailing dragon killer to hide out; and when she’d gotten sick after her second dragon kill, a dragon was named Viinturuth, Pala barely made it back to the inn before her eyes began to darken. She’d managed to give Hadring a flawless sapphire before passing out at the bar to ensure she be left alone.

  
The fact that it happened a second time worried Pala to the point where she considered the need to hire a companion. If she happened to be in the wilds, the next time she killed a dragon could be the last.

  
When Pala recovered from her battle with Viinturuth in Oblivion, Hadring recommended that she send for a healer, the illness scaring the simply innkeeper more than she expected. Pala’d launched into a lengthy lie about a sickness she’d been born with and that she couldn’t tell when it was going to strike again; but a few days in bed and a few hearty meals afterward was all she needed. Pala apologized to the innkeeper with a smile, begging him not to contact the mage’s college if it should happen again.

  
After her second ‘bout’ in as many months, Pala decided to leave Nightgate Inn for good. It did no one any favors for her to hang around so close to the sanctuary. Nazir would find her sooner rather than later if the stories about her antics became too frequent. No matter how much Babette and Cicero loved her, it wouldn’t keep Nazir away for long if she stayed in what was essentially his back yard.

  
Her bag filled with goods to sell and septims to spend, Pala gave the old innkeeper a quick hug and headed west. She hadn’t decided yet if she wanted to go to Winterhold or Windhelm, but either would be good enough for a while.

  
When Pala reached the fork in the road hours later she decided to head south to Windhelm. It was closer and just slightly warmer than the Mages College, and mages were more trouble than they were worth. Besides, there were noble families in Windhelm where she might work out a few contracts. She was a shitty thief, but perhaps there were blood-feuds in the capital where she could eliminate members of both families and make enough money to settle down somewhere.

  
It was the 19th of Evening Star when she walked into Windhelm for the first time since she’d answered Aventus Aretino’s black sacrament a few years ago. The city was guarded well by Stormcloak soldiers, more than previously anyway. But the men didn’t seem to particularly care about her appearance at their front gate. Just a quick warning not to incite the nobles with her weaponry and she was allowed in. No shakedown, no weapons confiscation, just enough of a warning to cause a shiver down her spine.

  
Walking into Candlehearth Hall, Pala was immediately hit with the warmth of the fire centered against the far wall. It had been a long couple of days trudging across the tundra of northern Skyrim and she was ready to crash in a cot.

  
After purchasing a hearty meal and getting a key for a room upstairs, paying upfront with Elda Early-dawn, Pala settled into a stuffed chair near the fire next to a small table for her plate and mug of ale.

  
The bar was close enough for her to listen in on the conversations from the patrons. If she could get some information from the inebriated guests then she could figure out her first target rather than hunting down the rumors that were sure to be spreading through the city.  
Pretending to focus on the stew before her, Pala listened to an old man in nobleman’s garb chatting with a pretty little filly clearly looking for customers, or a mark. The girl was flirting like a milkdrinker with the old man and he was shrugging her off like he was completely innocent of her charms. Pala couldn’t help but grin. Maybe she should follow the woman home tonight and get details about her other paying customers.

  
Instead, Pala spent the night listening to the noble chat back and forth. It allowed her to introduce herself to the comings and goings of the capital city and gave her time to figure out who and what she needed to focus on while in town. She didn’t want to start trouble in the first few days of her arrival; it would be too convenient for her to get blamed. If she waited a few days, then maybe she could shrug off blame to another visitor instead.

  
Two days later Pala decided to head to the Palace. She’d heard the nobles talking about Jarl Ulfric animatedly. It seemed that his Rebellion was gaining more and more followers. Perhaps, she thought, she might join the fight with the Stormcloaks. At least then she might have a legitimate excuse for killing the Emperor when the time came.

  
Walking into the main hall with nothing but some ‘borrowed’ armor and a stiletto hidden in her greaves, Pala was directed to the war room near the throne.

  
“If you’re wanting to join up with the Stormcloaks,” the guard had said. “You’ll be wanting to talk to Galmar. He’s already got one recruit in there this morning.”

  
She nodded, thanking the guard, and continued on.

  
Reaching the doorway, Pala could hear talking in the room. Instead of barging in, she melded into the shadows and listened.

  
“Before you can stand next to your shield brother, you need to be able to stand on your own.”

  
“I’m not sure killing an Ice Wraith is a proper test of skill.”

  
“When you kill that Ice Wraith, then we’ll talk about you becoming a Stormcloak.”

  
“Guess I’m off to kill that wraith.”

  
“We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

  
Pala stepped back from the doorframe as a Nord male barged out of the war room and headed for the exit.

  
“Blasted kid,” the old man grumbled under his breath.

  
“What are you expecting?” another man said. “That upstart was at Helgen. What more can you expect from an escaped criminal.”

  
“Ulfric vouched for him,” the old man sighed.

  
“If he comes back, we’ll worry about recruiting him then.”

  
The two men walked out of the war room and Pala slipped inside. On the right was a table with a large map spread out. As she reached the table, Pala saw that they’d marked various camps across the whole of Skyrim. Having left her own map in her pack in her rented room, Pala quickly memorized all the camps she could. It wouldn’t be perfect, she’d been trained to sight targets, not maps; but she should have a more complete map at the very least. With nothing of note left in the room, she snuck across the way and up a stair case through the only other door in the room.

  
Despite having a couple guards in this part of the palace, Pala was able to get into a few rooms and knick a few items from the wanna-be High King of Skyrim. He certainly wouldn’t be missing the gems and rings that she’d taken. All the items she pocketed were easy to slip into the various hidden compartments she’d added into her pilfered clothing over the last few weeks in Nightgate Inn. Though she never set out to steal, not being a member of the Thieves Guild, she knew that if the opportunity to take a few smart pieces occurred, she’d take them.

  
Skipping right past the room where a court wizard worked at his alchemist’s table, Pala nearly missed the glint of a gold statue in the last room. Walking inside she saw the item, covered in gemstones, just sitting on a desk in the chamber. About a handspan tall and wide the small statue of Azura would be a perfect trophy. The gems alone could fetch her a thousand septims, but she’d have to bring it to the right fence.

  
Pala stifled a sardonic chuckle thinking about how just a few months ago the thought of stealing items turned her stomach. Divines, she’d even paid for that horse she’d taken, and now she stole from one of the most important people in SKyrim without feeling guilty.

  
Palming the item and stuffing the cold statue down the front of her armor, settling it against her breastband, Pala made her way back to the staircase. There was only one fence that she could trust to bring her the best price for what she had, but the path would be riddled with dangers. Pala would have to think hard on whether the trip would be worth it.

  
Finally reaching the ground floor once more, Pala appeared in the war room and smiled as she nodded to the guard.

  
“Thanks for your help,” she said, and walked out of the door. While she hadn’t spoken to Ulfric, joining the stormcloaks hadn’t the same appeal as it had in the beginning if she were just going to be hunting down bounties; at least she’d procured a few pieces that would help keep her fed.

  
That afternoon, Pala sold a few gems and items she’d accumulated to a dark elf in the Gray Quarter. In Saadri’s Used Goods, she managed to pawn off a couple of rare gems and a necklace she’d gotten for clearing out a pair of bears from a farmer’s home.

  
The statuette that she’d taken was hiding under the mattress in her rented room. The plan was to stay for a few more days, unless of course the guards issued a bounty for the item, in which case she needed to flee the city. She’d heard rumors in Candlehearth Hall about a serial killer targeting defenseless women. Contracted killing was one thing, what she’d been born and bred to do; but killing women whose only crimes were walking through town was extreme.

  
As day turned to night, Pala dressed in a common linen tunic and laced up the back of the blue kirtle. Before stepping out of the inn Pala made sure that the sheath holding Astrid’s blade was tight against her calf. The only other weapon she carried was a stiletto shaped into a hair pin that pulled her short hair back. Both blades were tipped in her favorite poison and ready for the attack.

  
Pala walked in the direction of the Talos Temple, where she planned on venerating the once-mortal man. She hoped that her appearance at the Temple after dark would lure out whoever was targeting the other women.

  
She hoped that she looked like a good target, twisting the gemmed ring on her right hand. The guards wouldn’t reveal any details when she came upon the murder this afternoon, but it was very possible that the murderer was attacking women to rob them.

  
Pala glanced around when she heard a scraping nearby, allowing herself to jump a little as she walked down the dark alleyway. She knew that the killer wasn’t behind her, nothing but a few rats were located in the twenty or so feet from the alley’s entrance. But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t watching from a rooftop or waiting in the next alley.

  
“Who’s there,” she asked, looking around like a scared little bunny.

  
When no reply was offered, she continued on, allowing some trepidation to leak from her body. The more simpering she looked, the easier a target she would be.

  
With just a couple paces before the end of the alley remaining, Pala heard the drop of feet from an open window nearby.

  
Her heart raced in her chest, the anticipation of a kill seemed to slow time around her. The man’s hand grabbed her arm and spun her around. She allowed him to pin her shoulder to a nearby wall as his other hand pressed a dagger to her throat.

  
“Not a word, bitch,” he growled out.

  
Pala attempted to reach for her stiletto but the man pressed the knife into the pulse at her throat. His hand was shaking hard enough that Pala knew if she moved, she’d likely die anyway.

  
Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, partly from the act and partly because this amateur had gotten the upper hand on the best Brotherhood Assassin of the Era.

  
He ripped her coin purse off her belt and tucked it into a pocket on his hip.

  
“Ain’t seen you before,” he growled out, running his eyes over her body. “Bet you’d be a good lay.”

  
The sounds of a couple guards walking their beat grabbed the man’s attention, as he looked back the way she came. Using his distraction, Pala gripped his wrist and twisted, spinning him around and pressing his chest against the opposite wall. Her arm around his neck, stiletto in hand.

  
“Your days of hunting are done,” she growled in his ear.

  
Glancing over to ensure the guards were not yet within visual range, she sliced the dagger across his neck. Letting his body fall to the ground, she reached into his pocket for her coin purse and raced into the night. A nearby barrel allowed her to jump up onto a ledge and from there she climbed up the wall and onto the roofs of Windhelm.

  
It was only a few moments later that shouts rang out from the guards.

  
Using the cover of night, Pala made her way back to the Inn and slipped into her room unnoticed. It wasn’t until she was safely locked within her room that Pala allowed herself to let out a shuddering breath. She would never go out that unarmed again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pala makes her way to Riften and runs into another dragon.

News spread quickly the next morning that the guards had found the Butcher of Windhelm dead in the Gray Quarter. No one seemed able to identify who’d killed him, but the man had been a well-known proprietor of a shop in town. Word was that they’d found evidence of his not-so-savory habits in an abandoned house in the noble quarter.

Pala stifled a grin as she ate her gruel at the bar downstairs. It looked like she’d done well, even with whatever help the guard was getting. She’d seen the Unblooded walking around the city, investigating, but Pala had stayed well out of his way.

“I’ll be packing up and leaving today, Elda,” she said, glancing over at the innkeeper. With the murder of the Butcher in everyone’s mind, she wanted to get out of the city before the trinket was discovered missing. A perfect cover she hadn’t expected when she’d decided to go after the butcher last night.

“I’ll get your tab added up then,” the older woman replied, seeming to know better than to ask questions.

After paying the innkeeper her fees, which were surprisingly low considering the amount of food Pala had eaten over the last few days, Pala grabbed her bags and headed out the door. 

Wanting to save some of her money, Pala decided to walk south toward Riften. The only fence she felt she could trust with the item was Delvin, famed member of the inner circle of the Thieves Guild and once a close friend of her mother. Pala’d met the older man a few times when her mother and Astrid had dealings with the Guild and despite Astrid’s betrayal, Pala knew that Delvin would still give her a fair price for the statuette. 

She could have easily purchased a ride to Riften, but the fewer people who saw her trek the better. Besides, Pala had no inclination to give into a nosy carriage driver’s gossip-mongering.

Having walked nearly an entire day, it was nearly dawn when Pala decided it was time to get some sleep. She wanted nothing more than a few hours of rest in a comfortable bed, but her bedroll would have to do.

Spotting a cave off to the side of the road, Pala ducked inside only to find a retinue of bandits hopped up on skooma. It had been too late for her to turn away, when she realized that she’d stepped into a grease trap just inside the door. The bandits attacked as soon as she tripped the rope and the lantern smashed into the spill. 

Groaning under her breath, Pala killed the first group of attackers with relative ease. The skooma had addled their minds enough that they seemed to see two of her. Without much of a choice, she killed the pit wolves that threatened to jump over the fence and attempt their own attacks.

Pala dispatched one of the men on a ledge nearby with a well timed arrow shot to the heart. He hadn’t thought to put his armor back on before he started lobbing arrows toward her spot. He hit a couple of his people in the back with his addled aim. She watched with a grin as he crumpled to the ground.

“By Talos,” one of the others shouted. “Why don’t you just die already?”

An arrow pierced her left shoulder, knocking her back a few steps. Pala tripped backwards over a now dead bandit. Pala couldn’t help but cry out in surprise, possibly alerting any remaining bandits to her appearance. She cringed looking down at the state of her armor, the damned arrow had pierced through her leather pauldron.

Hearing the rattling of chain mail, Pala ignored the pain and set herself up into the shadows to wait for the next group. Her left arm hung limp at her side but she could still kill swiftly with her right hand.

A large male rounded the corner and she snuck in a step behind him, reaching out and slicing against his large throat quickly. The man gurgled as he breathed his last and fell to the floor. 

“All I wanted was a place to nap,” she muttered under her breath.

Looking around the cave, she realized this must have been their main chamber. A bar sat in the far corner of the room and a large table and hearth sat near the middle of the hall, as much as a cave could be likened to an estate. She’d stumbled into a proper bandit’s hideout.

Doing her best to ignore the shooting pain in her shoulder, Pala walked down the hall that the large man, who must have been the leader, had come through and spotted a great iron chest sitting against a back wall. 

With what limited abilities she had, after breaking seven lockpicks in the process, Pala managed to open the chest and find a fair amount of septims with a couple trinkets inside. It wasn’t until she sat down on the leader’s bed that she found a note. Not only had these bandits been cage fighting the wolves but they’d also been leading a skooma ring. 

Pala pocketed the note to bring to the Jarl, hoping there was a bounty out on the small cartel. Knowing the cave was now empty; Pala stripped off her leather gambeson and inspected the wound. As carefully as possible, Pala wiggled the arrow free and cast a healing spell on the shredded skin. It wasn’t enough to keep the wound from getting infected, but it would be enough to keep her arm attached until she could get a proper healer to look at it.

With a deep sigh, Pala settled over the covers and closed her eyes.

After a short nap in the cave and another day of travel, Pala could see the gates of Riften in the dark fog. Knowing it was just a short walk away, she dropped down on a nearby rock to check on her wound. Having managed to find a healing poultice within the caves, she wanted to make sure it wasn’t festering.

With her leather gambeson off and barely dressed in a linen tunic, she looked at the wound with the dim remaining light. It was red and puffy, but looked to be healing rather than infected. 

It wasn’t until a now familiar roar filled the forest, that Pala recognized the familiar compulsion of a nearby dragon. It seemed that the pain from her wound had blocked out the squeezing sensation in her chest. Pala groaned. Yet another dragon to dispatch and she was nowhere near top-shape to be taking a dragon on.

Thankfully, when she neared the dragon’s position, Pala met up with a group of guards from Riften who’d come out to check on the commotion. Making sure her hood was up and her facemask across her face, Pala prepared her bow before stepping out from the shadows and aiding the men. There was nothing she could do to stop the men from watching as the dragon died and her body inhaled the soul.

Collapsing to her knees, Pala could hear the men begin to whisper to each other about her appearance.

“Not a word to the villagers about my identity,” she begged, the edges of her vision beginning to blur. “There are thirty septims to each of you if you get me to an inn before I pass out.”

“If anyone asks, I was hurt in the attack,” she said, struggling to breathe. “And if I hear rumors about a Nord woman being the Dovahkiin, I’ll send the Dark Brotherhood after Riften.”

Though it was a lie, since she had no ability to promise such destruction when the Brotherhood itself sought to destroy her, at least she could use it for a threat for a while longer. 

Pala’s vision swam as the soul of the dragon began pulling her away from Tamriel. She hoped her warning was clear to the men around her. Pala dropped her hands to the ground and allowed her stomach to empty itself in the grass.

Two of the guards looped their arms around her torso once her heaving had passed a few minutes later and helped carry her to the gates of Riften. Pala struggled to keep her head from dropping to her chest as her vision danced.

She drifted in and out of awareness as they made the way to the town. Pala recognized being lifted onto the back of a horse, a warm body wrapped his arms around her and steered the great beast toward the settlement, or so she hoped. In her mind, Pala missed the soothing gait of Shadowmere while she struggled to remain aware. The next time she fluttered into consciousness Pala saw four of the squad of ten walking alongside the mounted soldier. She must have been further from the village than she thought. 

The last time she woke up, before she found herself sucked into Oblivion for the battle, Pala felt herself being laid down on a bed.

“I’ve set up a watch, my Lady,” the guard said. “You are a traveler from Whiterun who happened to get caught in the middle of the fight. My men wanted to ensure your safety and health.”

“Thank you,” she muttered, as the world went dark again.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed while she killed the dragon in Oblivion; but when she woke up again, Pala found herself back in Tamriel. Looking around the room, Pala immediately recognized the inside of the Bee and Barb. She’d stayed in the inn a few times when she visited with her mother and Astrid, at least the guards had done as she’d asked.

Struggling to sit up, Pala noticed that one of the men sat in a chair near the door. It was clear that he’d passed out while on duty, but with part of his chair in front of the door, there was little chance for escape or attack.

“The Lady awakens,” a gruff voice said.

Pala glanced up to see the man smirking in her direction.

“How long was I asleep?” she asked.

“Four days, give or take,” he replied.

“Have you been here the entire time?”

“No,” he laughed heartily. “But my company has been taking turns watching over you.”

“I didn’t mean for you to,”

“Enough, my lady,” he said, interrupting her protests. “You think that after watching the Dragonborn save our lives, that we’d just let you pass out alone without protection?”

“I asked you not to,” she started.

“No one else knows,” he shrugged. “But there are rumors of a man who helped our team take on the dragon. He disappeared while we worried about the lady traveler who collapsed during the fight.”

“Thank you,” she said, with a sigh.

“You cannot run from your destiny forever, child.”

“I’m no child, and certainly not innocent,” she started. “And if you knew what I deal with every time I,”

“I don’t believe you are innocent,” he interrupted, his brown eyes catching hers. “An innocent wouldn’t have an entire arsenal in her bags. But I would do anything to save Skyrim. And so would any good Nord, no matter what their occupation.”

Pala nodded and looked down at her hands, suddenly realizing that her gear was gone. 

“You know what I am then?” she asked.

“I know only that you carry a contract in your bags, similar to that found on the Orphanage Matron Grelod nearly a year ago. As long as it’s not for anyone I hold dear, then it’s none of my concern.”

She nodded. There were few in Skyrim who would think like he did, but at least he was honest in his convictions.

“I had the court wizard check out that wound on your shoulder, you should be healed by now. Though he admitted that you were mostly healed when he came to the inn.”

“Thank you,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “I seem to owe you a life debt for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Nonsense,” he replied, placing a hand on the edge of the bed. “Just stay here until you’ve healed and you can head back to wherever you planned to go.”

She nodded as he stood to leave. 

“As you’re awake, I will bring up a meal and see about arranging a bath for the Lady. Then I’ve got a few errands to take care of.”

“Thank you,” she said.

The strange guard nodded and left with a smile.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *some references to adult situations, but nothing more than a PG-13, even PG movie might have

Chapter 6 

The next evening was the first time that the mysterious leader and his troop finally left her alone. He’d never given his name nor had he asked for hers. The man probably knew she’d lie anyway. And Pala would have. 

The item that she’d stolen from Ulfric’s rooms sat deep within her pack. She knew the man had seen it, but there was little she could do about the fact that she’d basically given them free reign of her items when she’d passed out. She would seriously have to consider a companion if she left Riften any time soon; but trusting a hired stranger was no better than being on her own, especially when she had Nazir and Sithis after her.

Looking out of her room window, knowing that the whispers of the thieves meant there would be more robberies, Pala watched the darkened streets for familiar signs. Earlier that day she’d attempted to get through the Ratway warrens to find her quarry; but after barely managing to kill the two thugs who wanted to take the guild on, she’d turned around. There was no way she could handle that kind of fighting at this point. 

There had to be a back entrance, an easier way to get to Delvin. 

She’d thought about sending a courier in with a Brotherhood message, asking to meet him, but if any of the guards who saved her found the letter, they’d probably attack her, thinking she’d come to kill Delvin. That wasn’t going to work. 

Turning her head toward the temple of Mara, Pala caught sight of a young kid dressed in guild gear ducking into the cemetery. She watched for another hour for the kid to return, when he didn’t, Pala grinned. Their entrance was back behind the temple somewhere.

The next night Pala found herself sitting on the roof of the temple watching the cemetery. She’d learned enough from gossip in the inn that Mercer was dead. Even Astrid had disapproved of the man who’d taken over the guild after Gallus had been murdered. Mercer’s greed, from what she’d learned, finally drove him to betray the thieves, something her mother had warned her about nearly a decade ago. The new leader was said to be fair but ruthless when the time came and Pala was not looking forward to running into him, if things went bad.

Delvin hadn’t been seen in weeks from what the gossipmongers had told her; therefore she needed to get inside the cistern. With no one expecting her appearance and no one likely to just let her in, Pala decided that the best course of action would be to sneak into the guild’s hideaway and confront the fence face-to-face. It was unlikely that the guards would be willing to tell her anything and it was even more unbelievable that they were actually in cahoots with the guild. 

The sound of lightened footsteps caught her attention and Pala peered over the roof to see a young thief walk into one of the only mausoleums in the small cemetery. The grinding of stone could be heard from inside and after a moment the world was silent once again.  
Grinning, Pala gave the kid some time to get into the bowels of the sewers before she leapt over the roof and down to the ground. She waited against the wall of the mausoleum, hiding in the shadows to ensure that no one else followed the kid inside. It was imperative that she not get caught.

The statuette burned in her pocket as Pala ducked inside the small stone hut. Before her stood what looked like a regular stone sarcophagus. Normally, there was a body inside, or at the very least a wood coffin, but perhaps there were stairs leading down into the sewers.  
She leaned against what she guessed was the top, but it didn’t budge. Walking around toward the front, where she’d probably be seen by a passing Mara priestess, Pala pressed her chest against the stone trying her damnedest to move the lid. Under her hand, Pala felt a design etched into the coffin and nearly shrieked when whirring filled the room. Knowing she must have pressed a lever, she jumped back to watch the floor of the room pull back. 

The entrance was clever, and lit inside by a lone torch. Quickly she walked down the stairwell and pulled a nearby chain, allowing the sarcophagus to move back into place.

At the bottom of the staircase was a covered entrance to the sewers. She quickly lifted the wooden lid and slipped inside, dropping to the nearby floor with barely a sound. The short hall opened into a bunkhouse. The circular room was lined with alcoves with beds and chests radiating from the walls. Many of the beds were in use, but Pala knew this was not the nerve center for the guild. 

After a cursory glance at the inhabitants, Pala knew that many if not all of the members were asleep in their beds. She quickly snuck along the walls where she could, but stayed in the shadows as she made her way to a doorway. 

Laughter down the hall caught her attention. How was she going to get Delvin alone if the flagon was filled with guild members?

She stepped through the fake cabinet, smirking at the fact that some young milk drinker hadn’t thought to close the false panel behind the wall. They should be glad that she was only visiting for the fencing attributes of the guild and not here to massacre their cozy little group.

Turning the corner, Pala spotted Brynjolf sitting at a table with Vex, his arm wrapped around her shoulder like a lover would. Swallowing hard, she remembered her own crush on the redheaded Nord when she’d been a child. He’d been so smooth and dashing when she was younger, but Pala knew better than to trust a thief with her heart. Besides there was always the fact that Bryn was her mother’s age, for all she knew, Bryn could be her father. 

“Come on, Vex,” he said, leaning over and nuzzling her neck. “We’ve got stuff to do.”

Pala watched the sly grin the older blonde female gave the Nord and the couple stood up, walking toward Pala’s hiding spot near the closet.

She held her breath and ducked behind the open door, there was no other place to hide, and she prayed to the Divines that he didn’t spot her.

Bryn stopped in the hall just a few paces away from her and smelled the air as if he caught her scent. Pala fought off a groan and closed her eyes. 

“Let’s go, Bryn,” Vex whined. “I’ve got a new little toy I want to try out.”

Bryn chuckled deeply and disappeared behind Vex, leaving Pala alone. She let out a breath and slumped against the wall.

Once the way was clear, she snuffed a nearby sconce and walked toward the familiar cistern, seeing Delvin sitting at a table nearby. His back was to the wall and his face was partially hidden in the shadows, but Pala knew he was watching the place carefully. A fleeting memory of playing hide and seek with the older thief brushed through her mind but Pala dismissed it. Using all of her skills at being a sneak, Pala allowed her body to meld into the wall and walked over to the table, with her hand wrapped around the statuette.

Her face was covered well by the mask and hood as she sat down in the seat beside the old thief.

“I have something you might be interested in,” she said, trying to keep her voice as low and unrecognizable as possible.

“You must be new,” Delvin said. “I’m not the fence. Tonila is, kid.”

“You’ll be interested in this little piece, Del,” Pala said, placing the item on the table.

“By the Divines,” he muttered, his hand reaching out for the jewel encrusted statue.

“Where did you get this?”

Pala smirked, his curiosity had blocked out the fact that she’d also dropped the mask from her face. She guessed it wouldn’t be long until he finally looked up and placed her.

“Wait a moment,” he said, glancing up at her. 

Pala allowed the light from a nearby torch to fall on her face.

It was a blink of an eye before Delvin had lunged to the side and had a dagger to her neck.

“How’d you get in here,” he asked, allowing the steel to press into her skin.

“You’re going to need better security if you want to keep people like me out of your house.”

“May the Eight damn you, Pala,” he said after a moment, his blade returning to its sheath. “Don’t you know what’s going on?”

He settled back into his seat.

“What?”

“Nazir has a bounty out on your head. The prize is 5000 septims to the one who brings your body back to him.”

“You’re kidding me!”

“Sorry, kiddo,” he said, with a shrug.

Pala’s heart dropped and her mouth went dry.

“I swear; I had nothing to do with a betrayal, Del. You know me better than that.”

“I knew Astrid better than that as well.”

“Sithis himself kicked me out of the Brotherhood,” she admitted. “But they were my family. I killed Astrid for what she did; she put a contract out on herself. Why would I betray them?”

“I don’t know, but Nazir has it out for you.”

“I guess I better get out of Skyrim then,” she lied, running her hands over her face. There was no way she was going to admit to one of her mother’s best friends that she was the Dovahkiin. He’d insist on helping her and Pala couldn’t take that.

“Stay for a few days, kiddo. We’ll get you a few good meals and then you can be on your way.”

“I’ve got a room at the Bee and Barb,” she said. “I just came down here to trade you for that statue.”

“It’s quite a prize,” he said, eyeing the piece. “Where’d you get it?”

“Palace of Kings,” she said with a grin.

His eyebrow raised and Del looked up at her. 

“We heard there was a thief in the city. Guess that was you?”

“Only what I needed. Just a few pieces to make some money. Without the Brotherhood, I have nothing.”

“I’ll make sure to keep the guild off your back then,” he said, his eyes looking weary. “But you know you’d do well with us.”

“I appreciate the offer, Del. But with the bounty and a few other pieces of business I have to attend to, it wouldn’t do the guild any favors with me as a member.”

“You know we’d love to have you. We can keep you safe.”

“You upgrade the security here, and I’ll think about it,” she said, waving her arm toward the rest of the room.

“You got it, kiddo,” he chuckled, still looking at the item she’d brought him.

Delvin ordered Vekel to bring a plate of the finest food he had and Pala dug into the meal wholeheartedly. She’d had nothing but broth and bread from her keepers in the inn and the stew was phenomenal.

“You should meet the new bossman,” Delvin said as she swallowed another bite. “I think he’d get a kick outta you.”

“The fewer people who can tie me here, the better, Del.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he sighed. “You look a lot like your mother.”

“Del?” 

Pala put her spoon down and looked at the older man; his features were wistful and sad as he looked back at her.

He coughed, as if to cover his clear feelings and stood. 

“She would have been proud of you,” he said, dropping a hand on her shoulder.

“I know,” she said. 

“We have the services of a face sculptor,” he said. “She can do some amazing things with magicka if you decide you need them.”

“Thanks, Del,” she said, turning to look up at him. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

The old thief walked down toward the cistern entrance. 

“You need to leave here soon, before the others catch on,” he said, before disappearing into the dark.

She nodded, though Pala knew he couldn’t see her and turned back to her meal. It wasn’t until she’d finished with the stew that Pala realized that the statue was gone. Instead, hidden under a napkin, was a stack of septims to pay for the item. She quickly estimated the stack, nearly fifteen hundred coins sat in stacks of twenty on the table. He’d paid her a prince’s sum and from it she could pay her debt to the guards. 

Pouring the coins into her purse, Pala headed back out the way she came and then made her way back to her room at the inn. 

It was nearly sunrise as she settled back into bed. She needed a few hours of sleep and then she could head out of here. With Delvin’s money, Pala wanted to head to Cyrodiil. Though there were plenty of jobs to be had in the Imperial lands, she had far too many obligations in Skyrim to be able to leave just yet.

When she woke up with a start later that day, Pala knew she wasn’t alone in her room.

“Easy, killer,” the voice said. “You were gone most of the night. I was starting to get worried.”

Pala relaxed as she recognized the voice of the guard captain.

“I had a couple errands to run,” she admitted. “But don’t worry; I’ll be out of your hair by nightfall.”

“Are you sure you’re well enough, my Lady?” he asked, his voice taking on a tone of concern.

“I’ve done this often enough to know my weaknesses,” she snapped, feeling her pride a bit wounded. “It’s time for me to move on.”

“I would feel better if you had someone accompany you on your journeys.”

The concern written on his face was enough to make her want to suggest he come along; his trust wouldn’t be in question after everything he’d done to help her over the past few days.

“The thought is appreciated,” she said. “However, it’s best that I travel alone.”

Pain pierced his features for a brief moment before he spoke.

“I believe I understand,” he said, sounding regretful. “If you need anything, ask for me downstairs, a runner will be sent out to find me.”

“You never did tell me your name,” Pala said, as the guard walked into the light that spilled into the room from the window. 

“My name is Ludvik,” he replied, stopping beside her bed. He took her hand and brushed a kiss against her knuckle before stepping away.

“I wish my Lady luck in her adventures.”

Before she could reply, Ludvik had disappeared out the door and left her alone. Pala’s heart raced at the contact. That man was smooth, she thought with a laugh. Then she climbed out of bed to pack.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Pala rented a carriage to Whiterun later that afternoon, she’d left a note with the innkeeper along with a stack of coins for the guards. She’d been specific about Ludvik knowing exactly how much was owed to her, and gave the woman a few extra coins in order to keep the money safe.

It was during her short stay in Whiterun that the ground shook and the word “Dovahkiin” was shouted once more across Skyrim. This time Pala knew exactly what the word meant though she paled at the sound, having completely forgotten the incident from before when she’d first killed Mirmulnir.

Speaking with a few of the men and women at the Inn, Pala learned that the Greybeards were calling for the Dragonborn to attend to them. It was apparently a duty of the Dragonborn to serve the Greybeards, a secretive cult of men that lived at the top of the throat of the world. Pala, despite her background as an assassin, found herself unsure that going up to the peak was a good idea. But, she wasn’t ready yet to commit to the Greybeards.

A couple of nights into her stay, the contract that Astrid had given her nearly a year prior fell out of her pocket. Picking up the parchment, Pala swallowed as she remembered the words of Sithis from that fateful night. Sithis would always have her hunted so long as she owed him the death of the Emperor. There would be no escape until she finished the contract.

Killing the Emperor would take time, planning, and the perfect get-away. She didn’t even know where the Emperor was or how she would track him now that her contacts within the Brotherhood were unavailable. If she did travel to the Imperial City to take care of the Emperor, everything else would need to be completed before she started the nearly year long journey to and from Cyrodiil.

Instead, Pala packed up her belongings and moved on to Markarth. Perhaps it would be safer to be in a town that wanted the Emperor alive. If they thought she was one of them, maybe she could find a schedule of the Emperor’s travel plans, and maybe luck would be on her side.

When Pala arrived in the City of Rock, she inadvertently became a witness to a murder. Someone had killed a woman right there in the streets during the middle of the day. If this was who the Brotherhood was sending out, it was no wonder that they’d been floundering.

After answering a few questions that the guard had for her, Pala decided to head to the inn steering away from the ruckus that was forming near the city gates. She was not getting involved with this death. The last time she stuck her nose in somewhere it didn’t belong, she had nearly gotten herself killed.

She kept her nose low in the first couple weeks that she was in Markarth. The only trouble she ran into was when she’d run into a priest and had found herself in service of Molag Bal. She hadn’t meant to help the daedric prince, but it had given her a place to stay, free of troubles, now that the haunting was taken care of.

It was well into Sun’s Dusk when Pala began running out of septims. She’d used the money sparingly and without anyone asking her to pay taxes on the abandoned home in the lower reaches of the city, the remaining coin she’d had from Delvin’s purchase had lasted her over two months.

Knowing she needed to start gathering some of her own money, Pala wandered over to the Keep with a pocketful of bounties that she’d answered in the hills nearby. She’d been reluctant to bring them up; happy just to be doing things anonymously, but she hadn’t eaten in three days.

Rumors had been coming in from the various holds about the Dragonborn being spotted in various cities, but no one seemed to have a grip on who it was. In any case, she knew that no other dragons had been reported killed since she moved to Markarth. It wouldn’t be long before another popped up and it would be time to move on.

“Argis,” she said, walking into the underground estate and spotting the blond warrior. “How’s the shoulder?”

“Doing well, Lana,” he said. “This winter doesn’t seem to be aggravating it quite as much as normal.”

She smiled at the man before continuing up the stairs toward the Jarl’s chambers. The older Nord had joined her for drinks now and then at the tavern and had shared enthusiastic stories of his milkdrinker days when he’d had a couple of meads.

“That’s good to hear,” she said. “Drinks tonight?”

“Ahh, my dear,” he said, gripping his chest in mock pain. “This old man can’t keep up with the youth that comes to our town.”

In truth, Argis was barely ten years older than Pala, hardly an old man, but he considered himself retired from his days of adventuring.

“No drinks then,” she grinned. “Perhaps a game of cards?”

“I look forward to it, dear lady.”

Pala raced up the stairs two at a time. Since arriving in Markarth, she’d given out a false name as a way of distancing herself from the old member of the Brotherhood. At least a new name would distance herself from her past in case Nazir sent anyone to look for her. There were many Nords that looked like her, and with no defining marks, that were exposed anyway, there would be little for Nazir and the others to tag onto the bounty. She’d gone so far as to chop off most of her hair and dye it dark brown with herbs in order to disguise herself further.

“State your business,” the Jarl’s Steward called out as she came within a few paces of Jarl Ingmund’s throne.

“I have some bounties to collect on,” she said, pulling the parchments from her pocket.

She handed them over to the steward and the old man looked at her carefully.

“I’d heard some of these had been taken,” he said, handing the parchments to the Jarl.

“You completed all of these?” the Jarl asked her, incredulously.

“Over the last few weeks, yes, My Lord.”

“Why wait to turn them in?”

“I wanted to wait until it was absolutely necessary, my Lord.”

“What makes now so important?”

“I’ve run out of money,” she said, grinning at the Jarl and his steward.

The Jarl laughed.

“You’ve done a lot of work,” he chuckled. “Perhaps I should award you with a title for this many bounties.”

“That is not necessary, My Lord,” she said, panic filling her chest.

“Nonsense,” he said, waving away her words. “I’m naming you Thane of Markarth. Effective immediately, you have all the rights and privileges of that rank and will have access to reduced pricing on homes in the city walls.”

“You know I have no money, my Lord,” she said, with a slight smile.

“Then,” he said, chewing on a thought. “Raerek, give her the keys to Vlindrel Hall.”

“But, my Lord,” he said. “That house is worth 25,000 septims.”

“And it’s been empty for years.”

“But, I,” the steward continued.

“Your name?”

“Lana, my Lord.”

“Thane Lana, will you be able to provide rent on Vindrel Hall, say, fifty septims a month?”

“Sure, my Lord, as long as there are bounties to be had.”

“There we are then,” the Jarl said, looking down at Raerek. “She’ll pay rent. We can take first month’s payment out of her bounties. Find her one of my men to be her housecarl and have someone sent around to clean up the Hall.”

“Have you lost your mind, nephew?” the steward spat angrily.

“She just brought back fifteen bounty letters at once. We haven’t had this kind of action in years. I like her.”

Raerek grumbled.

“Fine,” he said, standing. “Let us find a housecarl and show you your new home.”

Pala raised an eyebrow toward the Jarl, who looked far too pleased for his own good. It was fortuitous that she was getting a proper home and a housecarl, whoever that may be. But perhaps this was a sign that she could continue hunting dragons. With a place to return to, she surely would be able to convince someone to follow her around and make sure she got home again.

Her heart squeezed, thinking about the guards and Ludvik back in Riften. She hadn’t seen that sort of kindness since she’d left Riften. Granted she’d threatened to bring the Brotherhood’s wrath down on the guards should they spread her secret. Pala shook her head clear of the memory of Ludvik’s promise and walked down behind the steward to see who was to be her keeper.

“Argis,” the steward called out, waving her friend over.

When he reached them, Argis looked over at Pala before returning his gaze to the Jarl’s uncle.

“Something the matter, Jarl?”

“Thane Lana needs a housecarl,” Raerek announced. “You available for the duty? Or should I get someone else’s help?”

“It would be my pleasure to serve the lady in any way she requires it,” he winked in her direction.

Pala grinned at her drinking buddy. This could work out just fine. She already had a rapport with the warrior and it wouldn’t be long before she trusted him completely. His arm was still strong, though he insisted it had been five years since his last battle.

Pala woke up a week later in her bed in Vlindrel Hall, her head aching from a long night of drinking with Argis.

“No more drinking games,” she groaned, rolling over in bed. “Bad girl.”

A laugh caught her attention, and Pala nearly jumped out of bed only to find Argis leaning against the doorway to her room, holding a tray of food.

“What time is it?” she groaned.

“Lunch time,” he grinned back. “I was worried I was going to have to tell the Jarl you’d drunk yourself to death.”

“No more contests,” she grumbled, pulling herself up to sit in bed. The dagger she kept beneath her pillow shifted and fell to the floor.

“Still sleeping with that thing?”

“I won’t go to bed without it,” she said. “Even with a strong warrior to keep me safe.”

“Make sure to drink the regeneration potion,” he said, placing the tray on a nearby table.

“Slave driver,” she grumbled, grabbing the vial and uncorking it. “When’d you have time to get poultices anyway?”

“I’ve been up since dawn,” he laughed.

Pala drank down the potion and placed the vial on the table, giving the tincture time to settle into her belly. Whatever ingredients sat in the liquid helped clear the mud from her mind.

When she finished her breakfast, or lunch as it were, Pala shooed Argis out of her room so she could get changed. Stepping out of her sleeping tunic, Pala felt a familiar tugging in her chest. A dragon was in the vicinity and it was her job to take care of it.

She hadn’t broached the subject to Argis yet, there hadn’t been a sighting in weeks; but it seemed she had little choice now.

She raced out of her room, with nothing but her breast band and bloomers on and called out to Argis.

“Get into your armor,” she shouted down the hall. “We need to go.”

She ripped her armor off the mannequin in the corner of her room and had one leg in her leather pants when Argis burst into her room.

“What is it?”

“No time,” she groaned, nearly tripping over a pantleg. “We need to get out of Markarth. I’ll explain on the way. Get in your best gear. I hope your weapons are sharpened.”

Argis stared at her for a second before running back out of the room, panic in his eyes.

It took far too long for Pala to get changed into her especially enchanted gear. She’d paid a pretty large chunk of her money and left over gems to get the gear prepared for her next outing to kill dragons. Of course the enchanter had thought it was for all the bounties she cashed in. The gear had come in just the day before and now Pala was glad to have it.

Once she was dressed, Pala went out into the main hall and found Argis looking nervous at the door.

“I promise to explain once we get out of the city walls,” she said. “But until then, we act normal, alright? Just a couple of adventurers going out to collect on a bounty.”

“Sure, Lana,” he said, giving her an uncertain look.

Lana led the way out of the house, ensuring the door was locked behind her before walking down the winding staircase and toward the front gates.

“Thane Lana,” the guard said, tipping his head to her. “Be careful out there. A dragon was sighted near Ragonvald.”

“I will be careful. Watch my house for me, will ya? I’ll be back later tonight.”

“Sure thing,” he grinned, glancing over her shoulder toward the door to Vlindrel Hall.

Pala lead Argis out of the city and they started heading north, despite the warning of the guard.

“What is going on?” he asked her, a few moments past the Slavius farms.

“What I’m about to tell you may come as a shock,” she said, pulling her hood over her face. “But I’m going to need your help with this.”

“Whatever it is, I’m here for you, my Thane.”

“Be careful how loudly you say that,” she said with a small smile. ”You may come to regret it.”

Stopping along the road, she looked at him carefully, needing to judge his reaction.

“Argis, I am the Dovahkiin. I am the Dragonborn.”

His mouth dropped.

“You’re being ridiculous,” he said after a moment. “The dragonborn is a man.”

“I paid a retinue of guards in Riften a lot of money to spread that rumor.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m telling you this because I need you to ensure I get back home after we do this.”

“Get back home? What do you mean?”

“When I kill the dragon, I take his soul inside me. Sometimes it takes a day, sometimes it’s less than a candlemark, but eventually the dragon’s soul pulls me into oblivion where I must kill him again. My body will be useless and vulnerable here on this plane. I need you to make sure I get back home, somewhere safe, until I awaken.”

“When did you take moon sugar?” Argis asked with a nervous laugh.

“I wish I were kidding, Argis. But I’ve told you no lies. I need your help if I’m going to survive this,” Pala kept her tone serious, knowing that without Argis’ help, it was possible that she would stay in oblivion and her body return to the elements.

“I live to serve my Thane,” Argis said, sobering quickly. “My blade is yours.”

“It’s more than your blade that I will need. When I pass out, I need you to return me to Vlindrel Hall. Keep some broth and ale ready for when I wake up. You will know when the danger has passed.”

“This happens to you every time?”

Pala nodded to her friend.

“It gets worse with each soul I devour.”

“You will return home,” Argis said after a moment. “This I swear.”

Pala turned and began to lead the way up the road again.

“Come on, let’s get moving.”

“I have more questions,” he said.

“Ask away, I just don’t want to give this dragon more time to plunder and kill.”

Argis asked questions the entire way up the path and Pala answered all of them, at least as best she could.

“Shhh,” she said, holding out her hand to stop him.

In a clearing ahead, she could see a dragon circling near a large curved wall.

“It looks hurt, but clearly not maimed,” she said, drawing out an arrow and readying a shot.

“Let me hit it a few times before you race in and grab its attention. I should be able to slow it. Maybe even stumble it before you have to attack.”

“Are you sure about this?” he asked her.

Pala glanced over at him and smiled.

“I’ve done this on my own twice, and have been aided three times. I’m sure.”

Pala loosed the arrow and grinned when it hit the targeted soft undercarriage of the smallish dragon. It wasn’t as big as Mirmulnir had been, and didn’t seem to be incredibly coordinated as it tried to find her.

Another arrow flew in the direction of the dark-skinned dragon and it pierced an eye.

The dragon roared in anger.

“Go on,” she growled at Argis.

Pala took another shot, piercing the foot of the dragon as he dropped to the ground and began running at her full speed.

Argis gave a mighty war cry and charged at the dragon’s side, causing it to turn and Pala’s fourth arrow struck his other eye.

The dragon swung out and caught Argis’ armor, flinging him through the air and landing him a good fifty paces away.

Pala grabbed her daggers and raced toward the dragon’s chest and slashed into the soft skin. She hacked away at it until it dropped to the ground. A hand gripped her shoulder and pulled her out of the way of the falling body.

“Thanks,” she said, gasping for air.

The familiar music hummed around her and Pala felt her body sway as the dragon’s soul entered her being.

“Gather a few dragon bones if you can,” she whispered to Argis, “The claws or something, they should be good to enhance our armor. Or fetch a good price.”

The body went up in flames.

“Of course,” he said, looking at her like he’d just witnessed the unbelievable.

The compulsion that had moments ago nearly overwhelmed her, now pulled Pala in the direction of the wall. Writing had been etched into the stone, some sort of prayer or poem. Thrumming hummed in her veins as the words glowed as the dragon’s soul had and rushed at her.

This was new, she thought.

Argis came up to her side a few moments later.

“Can you read that?” he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“It looks familiar,” she said, looking over at the taller man. “Like I should know what it says, but it’s just out of my reach.”

He muttered something unintelligible and then turned to look at her.

“I got a few of the claws and some of the foot bones. Perfect for a new dagger hilt or two,” he said. “Next time we can get some bones for a new shield.”

“There’s gonna be a next time?” she asked, feeling a wave of nausea hit her gut. It wouldn’t be long now.

“I’m not letting you do this alone again, shield sister,” he said, with a grin.

“Then get me home,” she said, collapsing to the ground as the dragon’s soul enforced its will over hers.


	8. Chapter 8

Morning Star and Sun’s Dawn had come and gone and Pala continued to take out dragons on the eastern border of Skyrim. Argis continued to accompany her and Pala was surprised at the skills her warrior was gaining as he helped her take down the large beasts.

It was half way through First Seed of Era 403 when Pala stumbled on an old parchment hidden in her safe.

Opening the indestructible paper with the black handprint and coding, shock nearly ripped through her. She’d completely forgotten about the contract to kill the emperor. She’d been so busy these last months dealing with dragons that she’d forgotten about the Night Mother’s last request.

“Is there something wrong, Lana?” Argis asked. Though he’d learned her name back before the New Life Festival, she’d insisted that he continue calling her Lana no matter where they were.

She looked over her shoulder to see him leaning against the doorframe with his dragon bone sword and cloth in his hands.

Suddenly the small slip of parchment felt like it weighed more than Argis’ shield.

“I have something I need to take care of,” she said, tucking the parchment in her pocket and closing the safe. Pala wanted Sithis’ warning to go away, to forget that part of her past, to move on and devote herself to helping Skyrim survive against Alduin.

“I can be ready in an hour,” he said, watching her carefully.

“This is something that I need to do on my own, Argis. It would be better if you stayed here.”

“Don’t you know that there’s nothing you could do to keep me here?” he asked, with a small smile.

Throughout the past three months Pala had learned enough about Argis to hear the pain in his voice. She knew the man loved her, more dearly than any other she’d known in the past; but she couldn’t return his feelings.

“This duty is something I don’t want you tied to,” she glanced away from his pleading face.

“What could be so bad that you can’t share it with me?”

Armor scraped against itself as Argis moved into her room.

“It’s best if you don’t know,” she said. “At least then you can deny knowledge of what I’ve done if I get caught.”

“What are you going to do? Kill the Emperor?” he chuckled.

Pala merely looked at him, silently and without blinking until he stopped laughing.

“By the Divines,” he muttered, looking at her carefully. “You are going to kill him.”

“My last secret,” she whispered, unwilling and unable to look him in the eye. “I am a former member of the Dark Brotherhood. And his death is my final contract.”

“I didn’t think anyone could leave the brotherhood,” he mentioned, sobering instantly.

“I seem to be a special case,” she shrugged. “Now that I’m Dovahkiin, Sithis turned his back on me.”

“Blessed Sovngarde,” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair. “What am I going to do with you, girl?”

“I can’t put this off any longer, Argis. It haunts me,” she pulled the parchment out. No use hiding it any longer.

“Then I’m going with you,” he said, placing the sword on her bed. “I won’t allow you to go on this fight alone.”

“I can’t ask you to do that. This will change everything in Tamriel.”

“You need me,” he insisted. “Even if I end up being a distraction for the Emperor’s guards. You cannot do this on your own.”

Pala looked at him closely, the set of his jaw showed her that he would not back down from this.

“Very well,” she sighed. “I have heard that he frequents Solitude. I suggest we head up there and see what we can find.”

“I’ll be ready in an hour, my Thane.”

Argis left the room just moments later, leaving Pala on the cold floor staring after her friend’s retreat.

It took them nearly three days to reach Solitude. Pala’s leg had been bothering her from their last dragon kill, and using it as an excuse, she attempted to slow them down. The idea of Argis going with her into the fold, when she’d always gone in alone, bothered her more than she wanted to admit. Argis wasn’t a murderer, he was a kind soul, and didn’t need that kind of darkness haunting him to the end of his days. But without a good reason to make him stay behind, Pala kept her mouth shut. Maybe, she thought, she could get him to an Inn and leave him there. Sure, her best friend would be angry, but hopefully he’d understand.

“You really should have asked the healer in Markarth to take a look at that before we left,” Argis said, placing a blow of stew in front of her.

They’d arrived at the Solitude gates an hour ago during nearly blizzard conditions. She’d just begun thawing when Argis had offered to get them some food from the tavern keeper.

“I didn’t think it would hurt quite this bad.”

“You’ve been limping on it for nearly a week. I should have said something earlier.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said, giving him a smile and reaching across the table to hold his hand. “I’ll go to the Blue Palace tomorrow and see about having this healed.”

“You really want to do that?” he asked quietly, looking around the room.

“I’ll give the woman a nice tip,” she said with a grin.

“Insufferable woman,” he muttered. “If you’d just announce who you were, we wouldn’t have this problem.”

“Let me finish this, and then we’ll talk about it again,” she said, patting the hidden pocket of her armor.

It was an hour before they settled into her room at the inn. He’d insisted that they share a room, so that he could keep her safe. Pala put up enough of a fight to make him complacent and well after he’d fallen asleep, Pala snuck out of the room, with her daggers at her side.

It would be far quicker for her to infiltrate the Thalmor Headquarters she’d found the last time she’d been snooping around in Solitude. She needed to find a note or schedule that would allow her to pinpoint the Emperor’s location.

Taking a parchment from the innkeeper’s books, she quickly scrawled a note then raced back to her room, where she slipped it under the door. She told Argis she’d be back before dawn and promised not to go through with her job unless it was absolutely necessary.

With the night watch numbers being low, Pala slipped into the shadows and climbed up the wall that protected Solitude from the winds off the sea. The wind was harsh on the parapet, but Pala ignored it as she ducked down and away from the torch that lit this part of the wall. It didn’t take long for her to sneak over to the doorway and pick the lock. It was clear that the Thalmor had grown complacent when there hadn’t even been a guard at the door.

  
Walking into the main room, Pala spotted a map spread out across a large table. Unlike the map she’d found in Ulfric’s war room, this map had only a few markers pinned to it. Memorizing those marks for later, she looked through a nearby pile of notes and bounties before turning to see what she’d been looking for.

A parchment with the Imperial seal sat on a short table nearby, laying out for the world to see. Quickly skimming over the letter, Pala read that the Emperor was currently on his ship, the Kateriah, docked overnight in Solitude before leaving with first tide.

“Thank you, Nocturnal,” she muttered under her breath. With luck like this, perhaps she’d rethink Delvin’s offer to join the Thieves Guild.

Leaving the headquarters, Pala looked to the sky. It was still a few hours till sunrise, and high tide would likely be an hour later. She needed to move quickly if she wanted to get to the emperor.

Mentally apologizing to Argis, Pala slipped out of the city and headed down to the docks.

It didn’t take long for Pala to figure out which ship was her target. With two guards at the dock and at least ten men patrolling the upper deck, Pala cursed. She knew it would be a difficult job, but she was also glad that she’d left the warrior back in their room. He’d be useless a mission of stealth.

She walked past the dock leading to the Emperor’s ship and toward the East Empire Company warehouse, wanting the guards, if they saw movement, to see it heading in that direction. Once she was far enough away, Pala dipped into the icy waters and grabbed a breath before swimming back toward the ship under the dock. When she reached the hull she surfaced beneath the dock as quietly as she could and took another breath, she needed to swim under the ship and come up on the other side where she could climb the anchor and sneak onto the deck. Pala wasn’t sure if she’d need to kill them all, but she needed to be prepared to do so, just in case.

Having only a couple daggers on her person, Pala climbed up the rope and spotted her first target. Pala lifted herself over the ledge and hunkered down in a dark corner of the ship. A patrolling guard walked within arm’s reach and found himself knocked out within the blink of an eye. She slipped a quick hand into his pockets but found nothing useful. She wished she’d have thought to get a few invisibility potions before sneaking over here. But if she backed out now, her chance would be shot.

Two guards could be heard walking toward her and Pala shoved the man’s body behind a few crates and backed into her shaded corner. Sitting on the balls of her feet, Pala corded up her strength, her blades in her hands. If she could get a good shot, she’d take them both out without lethal force, but if she needed to, a quick cut across the throat could do wonders.

Luckily, the two men passed her by without thought and Pala moved toward the structure that must guard the stairs to the lower levels.

She knocked out a guard inside the room before he realized she’d entered the hold and rifled through his pockets. A vial caught her attention and Pala grinned. The poison was normally used in hunting excursions, but a little on a piece of cloth could knock a man out for a few hours.

Pala worked through the deck, using the poison to incapacitate the men until she reached a door guarded by two of the burliest warriors she’d ever seen.

Slinking into the shadows, she distracted them by throwing one of the stilettos in her arm guard through a bottle on the other side of the room. When one man turned, she grabbed the closer one and quickly slit his throat. The man crumpled to the ground.

The other guard turned but Pala leapt through the air and grappled him to the ground. Holding a dagger to his neck, Pala had the man on the ground, straddling his chest with her knees.

“Call out and you die,” she growled.

The man’s eyes grew wide and she whipped out the nearly empty vial, letting him take a good whiff of the remaining vapors inside.

The man relaxed and his eyes rolled back in his head.

She reached into his armor and found a key. After a few moments fiddling with the lock, Pala let herself into the Emperor’s quarters, only to be surprised.

The Emperor sat at his desk, dressed in what looked to be his finest garments, with his hands folded carefully before him.

“So, you’ve finally come,” he said, looking directly at her. “Maro seemed to think that his deal would stop the Brotherhood.”

Pala stood still, staring at the old man, unsure what to say.

“Come now, don’t be shy. You haven’t come this far just to stand there gawking.”

She took a few paces, glancing around the room, waiting for an ambush. Is this why the Night Mother insisted she carry out the contract? Had the Dark Brotherhood taken out a contract on her?

“You and I have a date with destiny,” he began. “You will kill me, that much is certain. But perhaps you will indulge an old man’s final wish?”

Pala blinked, still waiting for an ambush. Her hand was resting on the hilt of her dagger, her eyes darting about the room.

“I’ll take your silence as a sign that you are considering it.”

Pala forced herself to nod, not trusting her mouth to move.

“While there are many who would see me dead, there is one who set the machine in motion. This person, whomever he or she may be, must be punished for their treachery. Once you have been rewarded for my assassination. I want you to kill the very person who ordered it. Would you do me this kindness?”

“Why ask this of your murderess?” she said, finally finding her voice.

“I would like to achieve a small modicum of justice with my death,” he said with a shrug.

“Perhaps then,” she said, before she could stop herself. “You should know it was a member of your Elder Council that prayed to the Night Mother.”

“Indeed?” his voice turned up in question. “Perhaps then I might ask another favor before I die?”

Pala nodded, her senses on alert, even as she allowed her body to relax a bit.

“It is the Dominion that must be ended. The Thalmor have pushed us all to the limit. They plan to use this Civil War as a chance to take over Skyrim and the rest of Tamriel. You must do whatever you can to stop them.”

The agony in his voice gripped her chest and a flash caught her attention. What justice could be found by killing this man? What purpose other than the greed of a traitor could possibly make this murder worth it?

She was no longer protected by Sithis, she was Dovahkiin. Such petty squabbles should not concern her any more.

Perhaps the dragon souls she’d devoured were finally catching up to her mind, but Pala loosed her hand over the hilt of her blade.

“You will not die tonight,” she said, looking at the old man. “It seems my destiny is being guided by more than just Sithis.”

“Pardon me?” he asked.

“Before you stands the Dovahkiin. Cast aside by Sithis during her time of greatest need,” she announced. “And I will not kill a man who does not deserve it.”

She looked around the room and spotted a few items she could use.

“There is not much time,” she said. “Please strip off your clothing and rid yourself of any jewelry that calls out your position.”

She left the man to change as she rushed back out of the door to grab the body of the man she’d killed just a few moments ago. Dragging his body into the room, she stripped the corpse of his armor and undergarments.

“Dress in this,” she said, dropping the dead man’s clothing on the desk.

She grabbed the flowing gown and the jewelry before walking back to the corpse and dressing him in the emperor’s robes.

Opening the window behind the desk, she shuffled the partially dressed Emperor over to the ledge.

Dropping the rope ladder out the window, she ordered him outside.

“I will ensure that the Brotherhood believes the contract to be fulfilled,” she said. “Then we will both leave this ship and get you somewhere safe. The will of Sithis will have to wait.”

“Why save my life?” he asked, nodding to her and climbing over the ledge.

“There are more important things than the petty squabbles of the Imperials.”

She turned to grab the oil lamp sitting on his desk.

“Now go. I will join you in a moment.”

The Emperor disappeared over the ledge and Pala dumped the oil on the decoy. She tucked the enchanted parchment under the fur-lined robes and lit the body on fire. Standing by the window, Pala watched as the body burned, skin bubbled and popped. She covered her mouth to avoid the fumes and waited until smoke began pouring out of the window before she jumped into the water and joined the Emperor.

“Come quickly,” she said. “We won’t have much time before the guards see the smoke.”

He swam behind her, rather surprisingly well, as she led them to the other side of the channel. Shouts echoed through the air as the guards realized that the boat was on fire. Pala urged the Emperor to swim harder until they reached the rocky beach.

The Emperor collapsed onto the ground minutes later, gasping in deep breaths as she walked out of the water.

“We need to get moving,” she said, glancing at the sky. “We cannot still be here when the sun rises.”

“Where do you propose we go?” he asked, lifting up onto his elbows.

“I will hide you while I get my companion,” she said. “Then we will leave here.”

Pala looked at him.

“You’ll need a helmet for a while, to hide your face. But we will get you safely away from here.”

He nodded, seeming to take her directions in stride.

“Come along,” she said, holding out her hand for him to take. Once his hand rested in hers, Pala lifted him off the rock and led the way toward a Nordic Ruin she’d last seen years ago.

When they reached the ruin, sheltered from the bitter winds of the sea, Pala allowed the aging emperor to rest.

“I will continue on,” she said. “You’ll be safe here for an hour or so. I will return with my companion and we will figure things out from there.”

“I still cannot believe that you saved me,” he said, his eyes meeting hers as the first streaks of light rose from the horizon.

She turned away, looking at the entryway where they stood.

“I don’t believe there have been draugr’s here in years. Do not open that door,” she said, pointing to the entrance of the ruin. “If you need to hide, there looks to be a cubby back here. Do not announce your presence to anyone.”

“I was tired of waiting for the Brotherhood,” he admitted. “But I am not ready to die yet.”

Pala nodded.

“I will return within a candlemark,” she said. “I trust you will not do anything stupid.”

The Emperor grinned at her.

“I haven’t had this much fun in ages.”

Pala shook her head and walked away.

What a mess, she thought, as she headed back toward the city.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pala gets distracted.

Chapter 9

  
“Where have you been?” Argis spat as she walked into the room.

  
Pala glanced over to see fury spilling from her friend’s features. He was completely changed into his armor and his sword was pointed at her chest.

  
“The alarms have been sounding forever and you disappeared without a trace!”

  
“Will you be quiet?” she whispered, taking a few steps closer to him. “I had something to take care of.”

  
“I swear to the Divines, Lana,” he spat.

  
“We need to get out of here while we can,” she said, calmly, reaching out to his sword.

  
“Is the deed done?” he asked.

  
“Mostly,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll explain on the way.”

  
“Fine,” he said. “But consider this my resignation. We get back to Markarth and you can have another housecarl.”

  
Pala’s heart ached at his words, but knowing more than he did about the situation, Pala kept her mouth shut. She hoped he would take back his oath when he realized what she’d done.

  
It didn’t take long for them to pack up the few belongings they had and walk out of the city. Guards were few and far between as smoke continued to rise from the docked ship beneath the Blue Palace, and she found little need for sneaking until they reached the stables.

  
“Not a word until we reach our destination,” she advised. “I beg you.”

  
Argis only glared at her.

  
It took longer for them to get to the ruins than she expected, but when she arrived with Argis in tow, Titus stepped out hesitantly from the shadows.

  
“Have you seen anyone?” she asked.

  
“Not a soul,” he replied.

  
Pala nodded.

  
“Sir, this is my companion, Argis the Bulwark. He was my housecarl.”

  
Then she turned to Argis.

  
“Argis, this is former Emperor Titus Mede the Second.”

  
Argis fell to his knees in reverence.

  
“Your Imperial Majesty?”

  
“No longer do I hold that title, boy,” he said, waving for Argis to stand.

  
“I’m hoping you will do me one last favor,” Pala said, looking at Argis.

  
“What is it?” Argis asked, looking worried.

  
“You’ve already resigned your post as my Housecarl. Instead, perhaps, you will take on the duty of this man’s guard.”

  
“You want me to what?” he asked, breathlessly.

  
“You must go to Riften and get permission from Delvin Mallory of the Thieves Guild to purchase the services of the face sculptor to change his looks.”

  
“The thieves guild?”

  
“I will send you with a note,” she said. “I have a history with them.”

  
“You seem to have a history with a lot of people,” Titus said.

  
“You don’t know the half of it,” she smirked. “I have one last favor to complete before I face the Greybeards. Then I will meet you in Markarth and supply you will money to leave Skyrim.”

  
“Is this some elaborate plan to get rid of me?” Argis asked.

  
“This is my plan to make amends for some of the terrible things I’ve done.”

  
She turned to look at the man she’d saved before looking back at Argis.

  
“I trust you more than perhaps anyone else in Skyrim. I need you to promise me that you’ll find a way to allow this man to live out the rest of his days in peace. Titus Mede is dead.”

  
“Aye,” Argis replied.

  
“We will travel together for a bit,” she said, reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. “Then you must get him to Riften as promised.”

  
“I will,” he said.

  
Pala leaned over and kissed Argis’ cheek.

  
The trio walked south to Morthal where Pala convinced the guards to allow her the purchase of a horse and buggy for her aging grandfather to use while they traveled. Word would move quickly that the Dark Brotherhood had slain the Emperor, and she wanted to be well on her way before the news caught up with them.

  
They took the road east until Argis reached the familiar road just before reaching Nightgate Inn. She’d spent weeks roaming the tundra out here and the chill of the snow was almost welcome. Pala guided Argis to take the road south toward Whiterun, and by the middle of the night their carriage had reached the stables.

  
Pala asked the stable master for some parchment and a quill and while the horse was put to stable to rest, she penned the note for Delvin.

  
She gave the former Emperor a hug goodbye and wished Argis luck.

  
“Do not under any circumstances go looking for the entrance to the Ratway. The sewers are dangerous. Find Brynjolf at the Bee and Barb, or Maven Black-Briar if you must, and let them answer this letter. It should get you inside to go what you need.”

  
She handed Argis the note, and he wrapped her in a hug.

  
“May the Divines be with you,” Argis whispered in her ear.

  
“If Delvin insists upon more assurances that I sent you, tell him that he better not have melted down the statuette.”

  
He nodded and stepped away.

  
“I will see you both again at home in a week’s time.”

  
“Thank you, granddaughter,” Titus said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so very proud to call you family.

  
She smiled and paid the carriage rider well to get them to Riften as fast as a dragon flies.

  
The carriage driver nodded and Pala headed into town to meet with her contact.

  
There were not many people she knew in Whiterun, only having been to the hold a few times; but Pala knew that her contact would be in the inn. Rather than going to him directly however, Pala pulled her hood up and found a bench in the Temple of Kyraneth to sleep on. She would wait for the news to arrive before alerting Motierre.

  
The next morning, Pala woke to the sounds of the devout coming inside the temple for dawn prayers.

  
Already there were whispers amongst the townspeople of the Emperor’s death.

  
She sat up, wiped away some of the wrinkles in her clothing and made sure her coin purse still sat on her hip.

  
Walking into the tavern, Pala spotted her man, sitting alone in a room on the other end of the main hall. She stepped back into the shadows and made her way over, wanting to look as menacing as possible to the man who’d betrayed his Emperor.

  
Allowing the door to shut behind her, Pala stared down at Motierre until he realized who had joined him.

  
“It’s about time,” he growled out, looking at her.

  
“Killing the Emperor is a tricky business, Amaund,” she said, stepping out into the candle light. “The contract is complete.”

  
“Your payment is in a drop at the cavern where we first met.”

  
“Our business is yet unfinished,” she said, slipping her daggers from their sheaths.

  
She covered his mouth as she jumped at him, gutting him with the Blade of Woe, and watched as he collapsed to the ground.

  
“But, we had a deal,” he said, gasping for air.

  
“The Emperor sends his wishes,” she said. Then sliced open his neck ending his misery.

  
She rifled through his pockets and was surprised to see a handful of flawless gems in the pockets.

  
“Holding out on me, eh?” she said, with a wry laugh.

  
Pocketing the gems, she was about to head out to Volunruud to collect her money, when trumpets sounded outside the building.

  
She dropped the body into the cot nearby and covered his body with a blanket.

  
Pala slipped out of the small side room to see the innkeeper directing her guests to get armed.

  
“What’s going on?” she asked, sidling up to one of the more heavily armed guests.

  
“Ulfric’s attacking the city,” the warrior replied. “You have a strong arm?”

  
“I do,” she said, feeling her heartbeat racing with the impending fight.

  
“Then I suggest you join us, stranger. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

  
The battle was long and lasted well into the evening. Pala wasn’t sure she necessarily sided with the Imperials in this war, but she had just saved the life of the Emperor, whether these soldiers had known it or not.

  
By the time that the Stormcloaks had given up, Pala found herself on the steps leading up toward Dragonsreach, exhausted and ready to sleep.

  
“You’ve done well today, Nord,” a male’s voice said, calling her attention back to the present.

  
Pala looked up to see the warrior from the Inn looking down at her.

  
He held out his hand for her to take. She grabbed his arm and he gripped hers in response and pulled her to her feet.

  
“Jarl Balgruuf has asked to see you,” he continued.

  
“What for?” she asked, panic rising in her chest.

  
The man shrugged but gave her a smile that disarmed her.

  
Pala let the man lead her into the Jarl’s large estate at the top of the hill, noticing that a good handful of people stood inside near the throne.

  
“Stranger, you have proven yourself as a worthy friend of Whiterun on this day. Protecting the businesses and homes of many of the citizens. I would like to bestow upon you the title of Thane, becoming one in a select group of citizens that I can trust to have the best of Whiterun’s intentions in your heart.”

  
Pala froze at his words, never expecting to be granted Thanehood in yet another hold in Skyrim.

  
“Normally such a title would require you to own property in Whiterun, but alas I think the few properties we had available are now destroyed.”

  
“The Companions have a few beds available, my Lord,” the man beside her pointed out. “Until such time as reconstruction is finished, she can stay with us.”

  
“Your generosity is noted, Harbinger Oskar.”

  
The room was silent for a moment and Pala guessed that they were waiting on her to speak.

  
“Thank you, Jarl Balgruuf for your kindness,” she said with a bow. The last thing she needed was another title. Pala could feel the noose tightening around her neck. It wouldn’t be long before Nazir found her if she kept collecting titles.

  
She was about to decline the title when his steward brought out a large glowing axe. Inwardly, she groaned.

  
“What is your name?” he asked, looking at her.

  
“Anna,” she said, pulling a fairly popular name from her mind. Neither Pala nor Lana needed to be spotted in Whiterun as Thane.

  
The Jarl smiled.

  
“Then may I present to you this axe as a symbol of the protection you’ve given Whiterun and her people on this day.”

  
“Thank you, my Lord,” she replied, taking the axe from the steward’s hands.

  
“One last gift,” he said. “To ensure that the rabble of the city know you’re Thane, I give you this signet ring.”

  
The Jarl took a ring off his pinky finger and handed the gold jewelry to her himself.

  
“Honor to you, my Jarl,” she said, placing the ring on her hand and bowing her head in reverence. Divines above, she wanted to mutter. She was in deep.

  
It didn’t take long for the people to clear from the room as Pala stood still, trying to wrap her head around the last couple of days. She needed a drink, or ten, and she needed to get to Volunruud before bandits found the money.

  
~*~*~*~*~

  
“Is everything alright, Anna?” a voice said, cutting through the fog of her thoughts.

  
Pala could hear the voice but ignored it as she attempted to remember what all she needed to do.

  
A hand dropped on her shoulder and Pala spun around, grabbing the wrist and tucking a foot around the assailant’s leg before knocking him back onto the floor.

  
The man landed with a grunt and her vision cleared as she looked down at the Harbinger of the Companions.

  
“Divines,” she said, wincing. “I’m sorry.”

  
“Remind me not to sneak up on you again,” he said with a chuckle, pulling himself up to his elbows.

  
“You startled me,” she shrugged, reaching down for his hand.

  
“Yes, I noticed.” Oskar allowed her to help him up and looked her over. “Even after watching you today, he said. “I didn’t expect you to be able to flip me like that.”

  
“My father insisted I be able to defend myself,” she lied easily.

  
“I’ll have to warn the Companions,” he laughed, rubbing his lower back.

  
She looked at him apologetically.

  
“I wanted to ask if you wanted to go to the tavern for a drink? To celebrate our victory over the Stormcloaks.”

  
“I,” she started, seeing the look in his eye. The man was handsome enough and the leader of one of the greatest warrior clans in Tamriel; but she had other things to do.

  
“I’ll have to take you up on the drink on another night,” she said, not wanting to anger him.

  
“I see,” he said, starting like he hadn’t expected that answer.

  
“A drink would be lovely, but I should have left Whiterun this morning.”

  
“Is anything wrong?” he asked.

  
“No, I merely promised my grandfather I’d be home when he got there.”

  
“Ahh, a family lass,” he grinned.

  
“I care a great deal for my family,” she said, not needing to lie about that.

  
“Then I hope to see you in Whiterun again soon.”

  
She nodded and stepped past him. Just before she reached the doorway, Pala turned and smiled at the Harbinger. Though she had no intention of returning to Whiterun soon, it was nice to know that at least one person seemed to think she was worthy of a nice evening.

  
Walking out into the cooling afternoon, Pala walked over to a nearby watchtower and jumped over the wall. She landed a bit harder than she expected; with the weight of the new axe on her hip; but ignored the pain that shuddered through her body as she headed north for the Nordic ruin.  
Finding her prize a few hours later, Pala locked herself in the ruin for the night, setting up a magnitude of traps on the way from the door toward the room where her prize had been dropped. There were a couple of bedrolls that she found in other rooms in the ruin and having cleared out this place last year, she insisted on double checking the entire thing before falling asleep with her arms around the pack filled with coins.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little warm moment at the end, but nothing more than a PG-13 kiss.

Chapter 11  
The sun was warm a few days later when Pala finally stepped out into the air. She’d slept soundly in the cave and needed just a few days of rest after the battles of the past week. Pala was grateful that not a single one of her traps had gone off. Taking one of the bedrolls, Pala cut it into pieces with her daggers and shoved the shreds in various places in the pack, hoping to cut down on the jingling of coins. It was dangerous to have more than one hundred septims in a purse and it was downright fatal to carry the 20,000 septims she’d won in a pack. She covered the top of the coins with the leftover from the roll in the hopes of resembling clothing, in case she was ordered to open the pack by a guard.

  
Putting the pack of money over her shoulder, stuffed with even more gems that she’d missed the first time she’d been in the ruins, Pala knew she needed to get out of the bloodied armor she’d been wearing for days. Practically useless after her participation in the battle yesterday, Pala decided to head south to Riverwood where she could purchase new clothing without much bother.

  
When she walked past Whiterun, Pala took stock of the damage from the battle. There would be months if not years of repairs to be done to the city before it would recover. Titus’ words to her struck a chord; the Aldemari Dominion really would win Skyrim over if they continued to bicker between the rebellion and the Empire.

  
She sighed and continued on to Riverwood, looking forward to returning to Markarth. Spending most of the afternoon in the shops in the small trading village trying to purchase the best armor she could for the best price, Pala didn’t leave the area until late. She wanted to give the money to Argis and the ex-emperor, so they could start somewhere new without worrying for money. Purchasing a few flawless gems with some of the money helped ease the weight of the pack and gems could almost always be sold for the price they were purchased for.

  
It wasn’t until she reached Falkreath later that afternoon that Pala realized something was wrong.

  
The birds had gone silent and the chattering of rodents had all but disappeared as she walked toward the settlement gates.

  
The gates were open, so nothing was wrong inside. She could not feel the compulsion of a nearby dragon or one of those strange walls she’d been finding.

  
Pala moved her left hand to the blade hilt on her hip. The axe would be nearly useless to her on her right hip.

  
A breeze whipped through the trees and Pala caught a sulfuric scent in the air.

  
Babette?

  
She turned around quickly to find a courier coming up toward her and she dropped her hands from her weapons.

  
“Been lookin’ for ya,” he said, “got a letter here.”

  
Pala stood with a raised eyebrow, trying to figure out who’d sent a courier for her.

  
“Ahh, here we go.”

  
The man handed her the parchment and turned to leave, not even waiting for his tip.

  
Her hands shook slightly as she opened the wax seal. On the parchment was a black handprint, underneath was Nazir’s familiar handwriting scrawled with words that struck fear in her heart.

  
“We Know”

  
Pala looked up to see the man had disappeared. An agent of the Brotherhood, she’d used them many times herself. There was probably a retinue of new members set up in the old sanctuary. Pala diverted north, damn the settlement and damn the Brotherhood. She needed a place to hide.

Passing the Shriekwind Bastion ruins, Pala headed for an estate she knew someone had built over the past few years. It would be a bad idea to steal inside the large homestead, but maybe she could climb up to the top of the tower and watch for brotherhood members.

  
They would come soon and they would come quickly. If she could take care of them before they found her, she could get away with this. Her thoughts became her mantra as she saw an estate rise ahead of her.

  
No fire seemed to be in the hearths of the home. Maybe Nocturnal was on her side, she thought, scaling the walls of the tower.

  
As if answering her prayers, Pala found a bow and a quiver of arrows on a table at the top of the tower. What did this Thane, as only one serving a Jarl could afford a house like this, put up with if he or she needed to keep weapons at the ready?

  
She smirked and picked up the bow, testing its weight and feel. It wasn’t her glass bow, that was home in Markarth; but this would do well enough. Pala hunkered down as low as she could and watched the ridge for movement.

  
It was an hour or more before her first sighting of Brotherhood regalia. She quickly knocked an arrow and sent it straight into the intruder’s head. He fell over dead before he could scream. Pala took out three more of the men before she could hear shouting.

  
How many had Nazir sent to kill her?

  
Pala lobbed another half dozen or so arrows into the group that raced toward her, such disgraceful tactics, she thought with a grimace. Then when the quiver had emptied, Pala left most of her items on the balcony and jumped onto the roof and climbed her way down the wall. She wasn’t going to let these assassins attack an innocent’s home.

  
There were three men left and she had little trouble fighting them off. Two died before she realized what she’d done. The last was on the ground as she straddled his chest, a dagger pressed into his neck.

  
“Today is your lucky day,” she growled out. “Send word to Nazir that my contract is completed. One more attack on my life and I will take the entire Brotherhood of Skyrim to Oblivion with me.”

  
The kid scrambled to his feet and ran off after she’d climbed off of him. She quickly scaled the wall once more and set on the floor of the tower, hidden by the daub and wattle of the balcony and lied down to rest.

  
The next thing Pala knew, she was waking up to see an arrow pointed at her face. She scrambled back toward the wall and looked up to see a woman dressed in warrior armor aiming a bow at her.

  
“You’re the one the Brotherhood came here to kill?” she asked, her voice quiet and menacing.

  
Pala nodded.

  
“My housecarl had quite the chore last night of cleaning away the bodies.”

  
“I’m sorry,” she said, unsure what the thane was going for.

  
“That you’re still alive proves that you have something to fight for. The Brotherhood does not take well to their marks still living.”

  
Pala could only nod.

  
“Move along then,” the Thane said. “To take out ten of them, means I don’t want anything to do with you either.”

  
Pala nodded and grabbed her bag, jumped over the wall and climbed back down to the ground. She raced away from the estate. It wasn’t until she reached the other end of the lake and on the road to Markarth that Pala stopped running. She could easily have killed the woman if necessary, but the arrow just a handspan away from her eyes had been enough to sway her from the attempt. She’d had enough of killing and thought briefly of making an oath never to do so again.

  
It took Pala the rest of the day to get to home. She knew she could have made it before noon, judging by the speed at which she raced away from the house, but she was exhausted and had no desire to push herself. Entering the gates just after sundown, Pala was greeted as usual by the guards.

  
“Argis made it back earlier this morning,” the guard said. “We were surprised to see you were missing.”

  
“Not missing,” she smiled. “I just had a few things to take care of.”

  
“Your grandfather seems a nice man.”

  
“He’s a wonderful man,” she said, letting her voice take on a tone that she would have used for a father, had she known who he was.

  
“Have a good evening, my Thane,” he said.

  
Pala worked hard not to run up the path and to her estate. She didn’t want anyone to think that anything was wrong.

  
She quickly unlocked her door and walked into see Titus and Argis sitting at the table enjoying a bowl of food.

  
“Welcome back, Lana,” Argis said, looking over at her.

  
“I see you had no trouble with Delvin,” she said, looking at the changes on the old man’s face.

  
“He was suspicious,” Argis said. “But your comment about the statue caused him to laugh heartily.”

  
“How was the surgery?” she asked Titus.

  
“Surprisingly painless,” the ex-emperor said, with a grin. “I am now Lucan, Breton and widower of a beautiful Redguard.”

  
He laughed.

  
“Scandalous,” she smiled.

  
Dropping the bag of coin on the ground, she looked over at them.

  
“Your favor has been done,” she said. “And your ransom is in the bag.”

  
“I cannot take your prize, Lana,” Lucan said, sincerely.

  
“You will need it to pay your way over the border and to find a new place to live,” she replied. “I cannot know anything about where you go, just in case. The Brotherhood has already sought retribution. We have maybe a day or two before they send out a second group to kill me.”

  
“They know the truth then?”

  
“Sithis would have announced my betrayal, or perhaps the Night Mother did. Either way, I want the two of you gone by morning. Neither of you should pay the price of my betrayal.”

  
“Lana,” Argis said, his voice heavy with grief.

  
“I am sorry I dragged you into this, old friend,” she said. “But you and I both know I need to focus on my other duties.”

  
Argis nodded.

  
It wasn’t until later that evening that Lana heard a knock on her door. She walked over, dressing in her heaviest robe and unlocked the door to see Argis looking down at her, his expression pained.

  
She pulled the door open and he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

  
“Argis,” she started. They’d already said their goodbyes.

  
He pushed her against the wall and his mouth descended on hers before she could react.

  
His tongue pressed his advantage as it laved into her mouth and he moaned.

  
A fire lit low in her belly as Argis’ hands trailed lines along her hips and Pala couldn’t help but grip his arms as he pushed her legs apart and settled his hips against hers.

  
He pulled away after long moments and rested his head against her forehead, his breathing shallow and ragged.

  
“Argis?” she asked.

  
“I couldn’t leave without doing that,” he muttered. “I know you don’t return my feelings, Pala; but I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t take the chance.”

  
“I’m sorry,” she said, regretting the fact that she couldn’t love him the way he wished.

  
“No apologies,” he whispered. “I should have known that the one person I could love would be a Dovahkiin.”

  
He brushed his lips across her cheek and laughed wryly.

  
“Argis,” she started.

  
“Don’t.” His eyes closed in anguish.

  
“I’m not, I want you to take anything you can carry out of this place. Neither of us will be back here after tonight. You should be able to get some money out of the gems and rings in my safe. I will be going to the Jarl tonight to pay up my rent.”

  
“What about you?” he asked.

  
“I’ve got a hidden stash of my own,” she said with a smile, lying through her teeth. “Don’t you worry.”

  
His hand came up and rested along her jawline.

  
“I’ll always worry about you, little lamb,” he said.

  
“Take care, Argis,” she said, placing a kiss on his lips before stepping away and going to her safe. It took a mere moment for her to unlock it and grab the pouch of gems and the couple necklaces she’d had made from some of the better jewels.

  
Handing him the last of her best loot, Pala shooed him from her room and locked it behind him. She rested her back against the door and slid to the floor, guilt squeezing her heart in anguish. Tomorrow she would head for the Throat of the World to face her fate.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Help from an old friend.

Chapter 12

  
When Pala finally woke up the next day, Argis and Titus were gone as promised. The house had been cleared of many of the valuables and she’d smiled, glad that they would have enough for a new start wherever they ended up. Argis’ strength and abilities had grown exponentially over the last few months of working with her and Pala had the confidence that he could protect the old man as well as she could.

  
The house felt empty as Pala prepared a note to take to Jarl Igmund. In the letter, she wrote of her resignation and need to return to her family. There was enough coin left for her to pay off the rent for another few years and she placed it in a pouch to take to the Keep before she left for good.

  
Everything else had gone with Argis. She needed nothing more than a few coins if she were going to sequester herself with the Greybeards to learn what being the Dragonborn really meant. And even if she did need something, she could always knick an item or two from some noble and bring it to one of the few fences on this side of the province, or go adventuring into one of the many bandit caves.

  
The snick of the front lock being picked caught her attention and Pala reached for Astrid’s blade. She hadn’t yet fully armored herself since she’d woken up, but she always kept a blade nearby.

  
She thought to hide somewhere and get the jump on the intruder, but the idea that another troop of Brotherhood members had been sent gave her pause. At least Argis and the Emperor were gone. Sithis really couldn’t be endorsing this, could he? The Daedric Prince had given her up, not the other way around.

  
Pala waited for the assassin to show themselves, her breathing calm and her heart rate level. It would do no good to get panicked before anything happened.

  
“The Listener truly has betrayed the Brotherhood,” a familiar voice said, as a dagger tip pressed into the soft spot on her right side.

  
“I have done nothing of the sort, Keeper,” she said, feeling tears threaten to well up in her eyes.

  
“Not only did the Listener kill her own family members, but she disregarded a contract given to her by the Night Mother,” his voice sounded crazed.

  
“I know it looks that way,” she whispered. “But Sithis turned his back on me, Cicero.”

  
The dagger pressed into her skin, not enough to draw blood quite yet, but it was getting close.

  
“If you did not betray us, sister, why does Nazir hunt you?”

  
“I am Dovahkiin, dearest brother,” she replied. “The Night Mother said I could not belong to Sithis while my destiny drove me toward Alduin.”

  
“The Night Mother never said that to me.”

  
“The Night Mother and Sithis are angry for Alduin’s return. They would seek to destroy me before I resolve my destiny.”

  
“The new leader of the Brotherhood is evil,” Cicero announced unexpectedly, the dagger moving away from her back.

  
“And now we are at an impasse?” she asked. For Cicero to have come himself, Pala was worried that the Black Sacrament had been done in her name.

  
“Things are not yet so dire, Pala dearest.”

  
Pala turned slowly to look at the jester. It shocked her to her core to see him dressed in black and red Brotherhood regalia instead of his normal clothing.

  
“Cicero,” she sighed, looking at him in sadness.

  
“I have not come alone,” he admitted. “The others will want to ensure that you are dead if I leave this home alive.”

  
Pala nodded. She would submit to Cicero’s blade if she needed to.

  
“But I have a gift from Festus that may be helpful.”

  
“Festus is dead, brother,” she said, her heart aching for the man she’d left pinned to the tree outside the sanctuary.

  
Cicero reached down and grabbed a vial out of his pocket.

  
“False Death,” he said with a wicked grin, wiggling the vial in his fingers. “A gift from our friend.”

  
Pala nodded. It had been Festus’ specialty, something he hadn’t shown anyone but her and Cicero to make. A potion that could fake death when only the most dire of circumstances required it.

  
“Are you sure the potion is correct,” she asked, taking the bottle from him.

  
“It’s the last of Festus’ batch,” Cicero admitted. “The potion’s effectiveness might be low, but it will still work.”

  
“Make sure my wounds look convincing then, Brother,” she said, popping the top off the bottle.

  
She gave him a smile, not letting Cicero say anything more.

  
“I hope to see you on the flip side.”

  
She flipped the bottle into her mouth, swallowing the contents in one gulp. The world went black immediately.

  
When Pala woke up sometime later, she realized that she’d been placed in a coffin. The world was black as her body was bounced along a road, at least that’s what she guessed. Her elbows bumped into walls, her hands tied together across her chest as was appropriate for a dead body. Metal clinked somewhere under her head and Pala realized it must be coins for the toll of crossing the river of the dead.

  
Pala could remember back when Cicero first arrived at the Sanctuary ten years ago, carrying the body of the Night Mother in the container on the back of a carriage. It wouldn’t surprise her if he’d done the same for her.

  
There was little that she could do in her situation, but her side ached with the dull burn of an old wound. Cicero had indeed knifed her as she’d expected and it wouldn’t surprise Pala if she had a scar over her kidney for the rest of her life.

  
She could hear the muffled sound of voices coming from the outside. Though the words were unintelligible, Pala noted the different tonalities of at least five people, either riding with her on the carriage or walking around.

  
Pala lie in the coffin for hours more as the carriage bumbled along the path. She had no idea where they were going; but it seemed like their movements were slowing down. Her job was to be still as death until Cicero let her out, and Sithis be even more damned if she didn’t follow the plan to the end.

  
Thankfully, the voices seem to be disappearing and soon Pala feels the carriage rock as Cicero climbed up and began undoing the nails.

  
“Is the sister well?” he asks as he works along the right side of the box.

  
“This sister is awake,” she whispers.

  
“Good,” he murmured, with his normally wicked tone.

  
The coffin opened moments later to a dark night sky.

  
“The others have been sent on their own contracts,” he said with a giggle. “We will load the coffin with another body and you can be on your way.”

  
“Thank you, brother,” she said, allowing him to help her out of the pine box.

  
Cicero laughed.

  
“Cicero did good,” he chuckled.

  
“Cicero did very well,” she smiled, giving him a half hug as she tried to remain standing.

  
“Cicero must bury the body in an unmarked grave,” he said, looking at her.

  
She nodded, knowing that Nazir intended to punish her soul by not allowing her to know her name and purpose in her afterlife.

  
“Let’s go kill a deer,” she said, jumping down to the ground. “The sooner this is done, the sooner your contract can be over.”

  
“Thank you, Sister,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

  
They worked quickly with the body of a goat they found wandering in the woods nearby. With the replacement in the coffin, Cicero would be able to tell Nazir that he’d followed through with the contract without actually having to kill Pala.

  
As Masser rose high in the sky, Pala dug out a grave in the soft ground.

  
Once they’d finally buried the animal, Pala turned to look at her once brother.

  
“You be good, Cicero,” she said, gripping his shoulder. “Don’t let Nazir ruin the name of the Brotherhood.”

  
“I will do what I can,” Cicero said after a moment. “For you,” he said, pulling a small leather purse from his pocket.

  
She pulled the drawstring after he dropped it in her hand, the bag filled with gems of all kinds.

  
“It’s not what you left behind,” he said. “But it will help dear sweet Sister to start over.”

  
Pala reached up and placed her hand along his jaw.

  
“You were always my favorite Brother,” she said.

  
Cicero placed a light kiss on the palm of her hand before she pulled it away.

  
“Cicero will not tell anyone of his deeds,” he said. “But perhaps when the time comes, he will let Babette know that her sister still lives.”

  
“Not until Nazir is gone, Cicero,” she warned.

  
“Cicero will take care of Nazir on his own,” he warned back.

  
Pala nodded and walked away, the longer she lingered, the harder it would be to leave.

  
Thankfully Cicero had dressed her in an outfit with a hood, so as she walked into the forest, Pala pulled the material over her head.


	13. Chapter 13

Knowing that she could never again show her face in Skyrim, Pala decided to head for Riften to employ the services of the sculptor. If she was to be known as the Dovahkiin, and the brotherhood hadn’t caught on yet, then she was going to assume yet another new identity. She could have no ties with her past at all from the moment she took on the new persona.

Reaching a major highway some hours after being released from the coffin, Pala placed herself near the settlement of Kynesgrove. With her mind made up on her course of action, Pala walked the remaining miles to Windhelm where she purchased a ride to Riften. 

It took the new carriage driver nearly two days to reach Riften. Both she and the man shared the carriage as a bed instead of setting up camp. The horse was well rested and Pala hadn’t slept yet. She told the man she could take watch, but found herself unable to fall asleep during the day while she rode in the carriage. It was on the morning of the second day that Pala promised herself that she wouldn’t be sleeping again until after Pala, Daughter of Sithis, no longer existed.

The man dropped her off at the Riften gates late on their second day of travel. She offered to pay for a room for him and keep the horse in the stable and the man graciously accepted. With the last of her remaining septims, Pala paid the stable keeper to keep the carriage horse for the night and treat it well. Then she gave the driver the last of her coin for a room at the Bee and Barb. She watched him closely after she entered the gates, wanting to make sure none of the thieves’ guild members took the money. 

Once he was safely inside the inn, Pala headed for the entrance in the cemetery and waited for one of the guild members to use the mausoleum.

She waited for hours after nightfall, for someone to come out. Pala dropped from her hiding place and grabbed the shadowed man from behind. She held a blade to the man’s neck while she twisted his arm to near its breaking point.

“Not a sound, kid,” she said, her lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “Go back inside and tell Delvin Mallory that he has a visitor.”

The man growled, moving as if to go for his blades.

Pala pushed the man into the wall of the sepulcher.

“I won’t hurt him, but I need his help and I know your people have upgraded security since my last visit.”

The man nodded slightly and she let go of him, turning him back toward the entrance.

She waited nearly half a candlemark before the sarcophagus moved and Delvin stepped outside.

Pala stepped into the light.

“Kiddo,” he said, stepping toward her. “You scared the shit outta that milkdrinker.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, “But I couldn’t risk anyone seeing me.”

“What’s going on?” he asked, looking around.

“I need the services of your sculptor,” she said.

“Following you know who?” he asked.

“The Brotherhood thinks I’m dead. And I need to stay that way, if I’m to continue my job.”

“What job is that?” 

“It would be best not to speak about it until the sculptor is done.”

“It cost your friend a thousand gold,” Delvin said. 

“This is all I have,” she replied, tossing him every last gem and jewelry she had. “I hope it’s enough.”

“It should be,” he said, testing the weight of the bag.

“Your woman needs to meet me here,” she said, standing her ground. “No one else can see my old face and none of your guild members can know that is me making the request.”

“That’s gonna be tricky,” he said, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck.

“Del,” she sighed, knowing he’d be tempted to tell Bryn or Vex, or even the guild master. “No one.”

“Give me an hour, girl,” he started after a moment. “I’m gonna need to get permission from the boss man. After our last visitor, there are new rules.”

She nodded.

“Stay here, and don’t get caught. I’ll be back.”

Delvin disappeared into the sewers once more and Pala found a hiding place near the crypt. She wasn’t sure how long she sat in the dark or how she managed to stay awake, if not alert; but before Pala realized it, Delvin had returned.

“Let’s go,” he said, pulling her off the dirt.

He led her out of the cemetery back behind the temple and down the alleyway until they reached a gate that he unlocked with a key.

“This is the guild master’s house,” he said. “The sculptor will be here soon.”

She followed him into the estate and was impressed with the upkeep.

“I didn’t realize members could own houses,” she said, looking around at the sparse but nicely decorated home.

“A few of us have legitimate homes,” he said with a grin. “What else are we supposed to do with all that money. Lady Luck has been kind to us this past year. ”

It didn’t take long for him to bring her into a bedroom. It was clearly not the master bedroom, but it was well decorated and comfortable enough. 

After settling on the bed as instructed, Pala closed her eyes and waited.

“What are you looking for?” a new voice asked.

Pala looked up to see the bosmer woman from the sewers standing near the bed with a bag in her hand.

“I need to look different,” she said, giving the mer a look. “Enough so that no one will recognize me.”

“That’s a surprise,” the woman deadpanned.

“Perhaps you can give me Breton or Imperial features. Enough so that I no longer look like a Nord.”

“Would you like to be changed to an Argonian?” the woman asked, with a laughing lilt.

“No, I need to be able to pull off a full history. I could never learn enough about the Argonian’s to convince one of them that I was of their tribe.”

The woman nodded. 

“A new nose, perhaps,” she said, reaching out and tilting Pala’s face. “New eyebrow ridge and shaping. Fuller lips would help too. New eye color of course. Your hair we can do later, unless you want it longer.”

“A length change would be good. I’ve never been allowed to grow it out.”

“Length and color change as well then,” the woman nodded.

“Go on, Delvin,” she said, turning to the man behind them. “I’ll be here most of the night. You can see her in the morning.”

Delvin nodded and disappeared from the room.

“Come on child,” the woman said, rubbing her hands together. “Let’s get going.”

Orange light emanated from her hands and Pala waited anxiously for the bosmer to work her magic.

The woman worked diligently throughout the night. Pala watched in a looking glass as the magic reshaped her eyes and chin. It was impressive, she thought, the amount of skill that this woman had.

Pala would answer the sculptor’s questions as she worked, making sure her customer got exactly what she wanted. 

In the end, Pala didn’t even recognize herself in the looking glass. 

“Thanks,” she said, knowing her smile wouldn’t be believed. “You’ve done a wonderful job.”

“No problem, kid,” the woman said, returning the smile. “You paid for my services and I like making my clients happy.”

Pala nodded.

“Go ahead and sleep,” the woman continued. “You’ll need at least a few days for your body to accept the new face. I’ll come in a couple times and do touch ups where needed.”

“But, my grandfather,” she started. “He was back on the road within a day.”

“Your grandfather?” 

The bosmer gave her a look, then nodded as if she understood who the person in question was.

“He had less work done to hide his features. Less healing time required.”

Pala frowned.

“The magicka needs some time to work into your body. But in a few days, maybe a week, you’ll be good as new. You have a completely new bone structure to heal, he merely had a facelift and some scar tissue fixed.”

The woman packed up her belongings and walked over to the door.

“I’ll send Del back in when I get to the Flagon. In the meantime, get some sleep” she said, and ducked out of the room.

Pala leaned back onto the headboard and sighed. She’d need to come up with a new permanent name and history before she left Riften.

With only her small clothes on, Pala climbed under the covers and passed out.

Pala wasn’t sure what time it was when she woke up the next day, but it was clear that there had been visitors. A tray of food and a cold cup of tea sat on the table nearby.

A piece of parchment stuck under the mug caught her attention and Pala reached out to grab the note.

“Kiddo,

I’ll be back later with the elf. There’s stuff we need to talk about. Don’t leave the house.

Del”

Pala smirked and placed the note back on the table. There was a lot that she needed to tell him, that was certain. But the fact that they’d confined her to the house made Pala a little anxious.

Dressing in an undertunic that Delvin must have left for her at some point, Pala then settled into a chair nearby and nibbled on the platter of meat and cheese that had been brought up. The sausages were spiced just right and Pala couldn’t help but sigh in pleasure as she ate. It had been weeks since she’d had proper food, rather than just fresh kills from the road. 

The house was quiet for an hour or two as she roamed the halls. The guild master was set up well in this estate and though she could tell that he was wealthy, it wasn’t enough for her to attempt at taking anything from this man. She’d hate to see what would happen to any attempted thief if they picked the Guild Master as a mark.

It surprised Pala to see an easel set up in a back room of the upper floor. It seemed that the guild leader was an avid artist and prided himself on his work. It was too bad that art wasn’t very popular in Skyrim, though she’d heard of occasional artists making it big in Cyrodiil. Someone, afterall, had to paint the murals of the Royal Palaces.

Pala grimaced at the thought of Titus and Argis. She wished them well and hoped that her faith in Argis had been well placed. 

It wasn’t until she’d turned around to leave the small studio that Pala spotted a work in progress. There on the easel was a partially finished painting of a person dressed in black armor fighting a white dragon. The trees of the forest surrounded the hunter and the prey in a way that niggled at the back of her mind. The setting looked familiar, but she shook her head clear. The forests of Riften were filled with foggy nights, it would be easy to imagine such a scene if one lived in the hold.

Pala didn’t know if white dragons existed, or if it had simply been the imagination of the artist that had made him draw it white. But, what she did know, was that he’d seen dragons before, judging by the detail of the wings and face.

The front door opened and Pala could hear Delvin talking to the face sculptor as they walked toward the staircase. Afraid to be caught in the personal rooms of the guildmaster, Pala rushed out of the chamber, closing the door behind her as quietly as possible, and raced down the hall to beat them to the room where she’d been sleeping.

She had just settled into the chair near her bed when Delvin stepped inside.

“You’re looking well,” he drawled out, giving her face a scrutinizing glance.

“Thanks, Del,” she said, reaching up to touch her cheek. 

“No one will be able to tell who you were.”

“Good,” she smiled.”That’s what I needed.”

Delvin stayed while the sculptor touched up her magic. 

“You should be good with a couple more treatments,” she said, smoothing Pala’s forehead. 

“What about scars?” Pala asked, looking in the reflecting glass.

“They’ll have to be added manually if you want them,” the elf said. “Though they probably would be a good idea. No one has an unmarred face in Skyrim, not even Lady Elisif.”

Pala nodded, the lack of scars would make her stand out more than a few scars would.

“I’ll think about that,” she said, bidding the woman a good day.

Delvin sat down in a nearby chair, and Pala watched silently as he rubbed his hands together nervously.

“Del, I,” she started.

“Wait a moment, kiddo,” he said, looking at her. “Your mother, she.”

Pala stopped, Delvin’s eyes dropped from her gaze and he looked ashamed.

“What is it, Del?” she asked. Delvin and her mother had been friends for as long as she could remember. What did Delvin know about her mother that had him so worried?

“She made me promise never to tell you something, but, I think there’s something you need to know, before you go on whatever mission this is.”

Pala waited silently, nerves fluttering through her chest.

“Pala,” he said, swallowing. “I’m your father.”

Blood rushed through her ears as Pala settled back into her chair. Looking at Delvin in a new light, she searched for signs that she was of his blood. The man was aging, his face marred with scars from a childhood rash, his head bald, and his brown eyes beginning to dim with the years, but she could not see much of herself in him. 

“You’re my father?” she asked.

He nodded. 

“Your mother and I slept together for a few months in the years just after Gallus was murdered.”

Pala swallowed.

“I loved your mother, but thieves and assassins,” he paused and shrugged at her. “I didn’t see her for four years after that. I know now that she was raising you, trying to break free of the Brotherhood.”

Delvin’s eyes caught Pala’s and she grimaced. Only once had her mother told her about the years when Pala had been small. Not even Babette could be persuaded to tell Pala about the trouble her mother had gone through to get out of the Brotherhood, only to be sucked back in at every turn. 

“I didn’t know you were mine until the first time she brought you here, on that trip ten years ago.”

Pala looked at him closely.

“You were fifteen and bright eyed walking in behind Astrid and your mother. I thought they’d brought in another Babette, seeing as how young you were. Bryn’s the one who called your mother out, and she admitted to it.

I was so happy to know that your mother and I,” he paused, clearing his throat. “Anyway. I promised that day that I would watch out for you, however much you needed it. Even Bryn kept a few contacts out there to make sure you were safe, especially after your mother died. No one else knows the truth, not Vex, not Tonila.”

Del paused, audibly swallowing before continuing his monologue. 

“I don’t know what kind of trouble you’re in,” he said. “I’m not sure I really want to know, but know that I’ll always be here for you, Pala.”

“Del,” she started, feeling the sting of tears at the back of her eyes.

“I know I’m not a model father, nor will I ever be; but I needed you to know that I was yours.”

Delvin’s anxiety was palpable, and the way he avoided her gaze, as if he were ashamed that he’d never be the perfect man, broke her heart. 

A tear splashed on the back of Pala’s hand, and she reached up to find her cheek damp. Wiping the tears away, she watched him.

It was a blessing, knowing that Delvin cared for her; but knowing he was her father, when she had no family left, warmed her very core. At least one person would miss her if she failed in the duty before her.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said. “I was beginning to believe I’d always be alone.”

“Not while I still breathe, kiddo,” he said, standing and walking over to her. Delvin placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly.

“I guess I’m going to need a new name,” she said, clearing her throat a few moments later. “Wanna help me pick one?”

Del grinned and placed his familiar kiss on her temple before returning to his seat.

An hour or so later, Delvin left Katarina to return to the Flagon.

“I’ve got jobs to hand out to the milkdrinkers,” he laughed. “I’ll be back sometime after dark with dinner.”

“How long will I have to stay inside the house?” she asked, feeling anxious already. 

“Just a couple days. I’ll bring some books with me tonight to give you something to do.”

“Thanks, Del,” she said, giving him a smile. 

“Anything for you, Kiddo,” he returned, and walked out of the back door.

Katarina, thinking her name over and over in her head to reinforce her new identity in her mind, walked back to the room she’d been given and grabbed the reflecting glass. She had to learn to see herself in the mirror and not be surprised, so she wanted to memorize this face, wanted to see that face in her mind rather than the one she’d been born with. 

The process was physically painless, as Titus had said, but mentally, it was going to take some getting used to.

The sound of a door opening downstairs caught her attention an hour or so later and Pala quickly tied closed the robes she’d been wearing before reaching for her blades. There was no guarantee that whoever had entered the house was invited and she didn’t want to chance being unarmed if she needed to defend herself. 

Pala opened the door to her room and stood in the frame, listening as footsteps trailed through the downstairs and eventually made their way to the staircase nearby. The person seemed to be muttering to himself as he made his way upstairs.

She readied her blades, just in case, and stepped back in shock when Ludvik appeared in the hall.

“You’re awake,” he said,” Galathil thought you’d be sleeping a few hours more.”

“Lu,” she started, then realized that perhaps it wasn’t the best thing to reveal herself to him. She was supposed to be Katarina now.

“Guild Master,” she said, trying to cover her mishap. “Thank you for allowing me to stay in your home while I recover.”

“Delvin is a close friend,” he admitted, with a small smile. “I’m happy to help him and his daughter out.”

Knowing he might recognize the blades in her hands, Pala tucked them discretely away. There was no use in hiding her identity if he discovered it through her weapons.

“I must say, I was surprised to hear the old man had a daughter. We weren’t even made aware until a week ago when our other visitors arrived.”

“I apologize for that. The circumstances were such that,”

“No need to explain. Though aiding the Emperor to escape the clutches of the Thalmor was not something I expected to be doing in my lifetime.”

“Neither did I.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pala finally faces the call of the Greybeards

Chatper 14 

Pala stayed at Ludvik’s house recovering for five more days. She itched to get out of the estate, despite the visits from Del and Bryn. The two men were the only people in all Tamriel who knew her true identity. To be honest, Pala was a little frightened that Ludvik would find out the truth, that he would be upset with her deception. He’d kept Pala’s secret well enough, but it had been days since they ‘met’. How would he react when he learned that he’d been housing the Dovahkiin without his knowledge?

She needed to move on soon, she would not put the others in danger.

Walking down to the kitchen one afternoon, Pala saw Ludvik cooking at the hearth.

“So you are not only Guild master, but Thane to Jarl ** and a cook?” she laughed.

“I am a Nord of many talents,” he said, smirking back at her.

“I bet you are,” she grinned, swallowing back the lump in her throat. Though he didn’t know who she was, Pala found herself quickly falling back into the teasing conversations they’d had during her first stay in Riften nearly a year ago. 

Walking to the hearth and smelling the thick stew, Pala decided that she needed to tell him her plans.

“I need to move on soon,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “There are things I need to take care of.”

“Wouldn’t you rather stay here for a while? Get to know Delvin as your father rather than just your mother’s friend?”

“There may be time later,” she said. The compulsion in her chest grew stronger every day. There were dragons to kill and she couldn’t ignore the once monthly calls from the Greybeards any longer. The elderly scholars had been insistent with their desires to see her, and their calls shook the very ground, even in Riften. Houses were likely to be falling apart because she was avoiding her destiny, but now, Pala knew she could not put it off much longer. Besides, what better way to hide from the Brotherhood than by secluding herself.

“Surely your business isn’t so important,” he said, his voice pleading with her. Pala didn’t dare look into his eyes.

“I’ll say goodbye to Delvin tonight,” she said. “I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality any longer.”

Pala saw him nod once from the corner of her eye, it seemed that his jaw tightened, but she couldn’t be sure.

“ You are always welcome in my home,” he said, breaking the silence a few moments later. “and inside the guild walls, whether you join up or not.”

“I appreciate it,” she admitted. “But I don’t want to bring trouble to the guild.”

“At least stay one more night,” he seemed to beg. “I’ll invite Del and the other Nightingales for dinner, and we can enjoy one night before you leave.”

“Alright,” she said, taking the ladle from the oven and tasting the stew. She allowed the silence to fill the room while she pretended to think about her answer.

“You win this round.”

Ludvik straightened up, almost imperceptibly, and Pala struggled to figure out what that meant.

“Good, I’ll arrange a feast,” he grinned.

“Not necessary,” she said, trying to stop him from overreacting. 

“Of course it is. You don’t seem to know when you’ll come back. I plan on giving you a reason to.”

Pala shook her head. This Guild Master was unlike any thief she’d ever known. It made her wonder how he juggled the life of Thane of the Rift, a job working part time as a guard for the Jarl’s soldiers, and ran a growing thieves guild that had just a few years ago been floundering under Mercer’s curse.

In the end, Pala slipped out of the city through a gate by the lake in the late afternoon, breaking her promise to the Guildmaster. She didn’t want to face a night of revelry with her father and Bryn and Ludvik, she couldn’t face having to say goodbye, knowing she’d likely not survive. Her heart ached, but she knew if she’d allowed herself to go to the party, Pala might not have left. 

*~*~*~*~*

The trip to the Throat of the World took about as long as she expected it would, though she wished it was shorter. With the filled pack and her bow and daggers, Pala had enough gear to get through the 7000 Steps with few problems. She easily dispatched the wolves that attacked and a couple frost trolls on the way to the summit. It was surprising that anyone even bothered with the pilgrimage. She had the delivery from the villager from Helgen, with supplies for the Greybeards, tied to her pack and it was slowing her down. If she wasn’t already heading up the mountain, she’d have told the villager to take it up himself.

The Fort was imposing at the summit of High Hrothgar, how they managed to build the settlement at the top of the highest peak in Skyrim was beyond Pala’s imagining. Leaving the goods at the chest at the base of the steps into the fort, as the villager had asked, Pala continued up the path and toward the large doors. 

The wood and steel door was heavy as she pushed it open and stepped into the relative warmth of the large building.

“Hello?” she called out, seeing no one walk over to greet her after a few moments.

“Welcome, Pilgrim,” a robed man said, walking toward her. “You’ve finished the 7,000 Steps. What is it that you wished to find during your pilgrimage.”

“I am no mere pilgrim,” she said quietly. “I have answered your call.”

“You? Are Dovahkiin?” he asked, incredulously.

Pala nodded, tucking back some of her newly darkened hair. 

“You will have to prove this to me and my fellow Greybeards,” he said, looking her over skeptically. “We have been calling for you for nearly a year now. Why only answer now?”

“There were pressing matters,” she said. “I could not leave for High Hrothgar until they were complete.”

“You didn’t think that the return of dragons was a pressing matter?” 

“I killed dragons when I could,” she said, as an attempt at an apology. This Greybeard was making her feel more guilty than her mother had ever been able to.

“We’ve had word of the deaths of 8 dragons since Alduin’s attack on Helgen,” he admitted. “I must say, if you truly are dovahkiin, you’ve done well so far.”

She felt a flair of pride rise in her chest.

“But you will need much more training if you want to survive a fight against the World-eater, much less stop him.”

Pala nodded.

“Come, let us meet with the others.”

Master Arngeir, who finally introduced himself, led the way to a large meeting room with a stone table set up in the center of the hall. The other Greybeards, whose voices were too powerful to speak to her like a regular person, were quickly introduced in succession. Pala expected there to be more than just the four Greybeards. They had afterall shaken Skyrim with their shouts. It was a testament to how strong their abilities must be.

She’d only shouted a few times, not really knowing what it did, and only learned about its purpose after Argis brought her a book on the Dragonborn. Not only had the book gone into depth about the Imperial line that carried dragonborn traits, but it had also explained some of what the Greybeards went through in their studies. Looking back on her kills, Pala realized that the few times she’d shouted, it had calmed down the period of illness afterward. Maybe that had been the problem from the beginning.

“I suggest you spend at least a few weeks up here learning the voice,” Arngeir said. “You may have a start, much further than any other we’ve seen; but some time spent reading our books and practicing should be helpful.”

Pala nodded.

For the next few weeks, Pala studied with the Greybeards, learning the way of the voice and mastering shouts for many different purposes. Some would cause her to teleport fifty paces forward in an instant, others would cause fire to shoot from her throat, and yet others changed the environment around her, clearing fog or causing rain. It was surprising to her, just how much the dragons could manipulate the world around him and that somehow the Greybeards had managed to perfect their own versions of the language.

It wasn’t until the beginning of Last Seed, that Arngeir approached her with an assignment that would take her away from the mountain for the first time in nearly two months. She’d gone out and killed a couple dragons in the nearby holds since arriving at the Throat of the World, but the Greybeards insisted she continue her studies rather than traveling across Skyrim like an adventurer. 

“I find myself in need of your help, Dragonborn,” he said, walking into her chambers.

Pala looked up from the book she’d been reading to see the old man looking rather nervous.

“What is it, Master?” she asked, putting the book down.

“The Horn of Jurgen Windcaller has gone missing.” 

“That’s strange,” she said, knowing that Arngeir had people watching the various Greybeard artifacts across Skyrim. 

“I don’t believe it is the work of the thieves,” he said. “But I’ve had a report that some of the Companions had entered Ustengrav. I need you to retrieve the horn for us.”

“How do you suggest I do that?” she asked.

“Join the guild in Whiterun,” he said. “See if they looted the Horn in an attempt to cure their curse.”

“I thought they’d cured it back when the old Harbinger died,” she said, remembering the rumors that had swept through the province that the leader had passed away after a group of Silver Hand attacked Whiterun.

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Arngeir said. “But you are the only one of us who could infiltrate that group and find out what became of it.”

“Of course, Master,” she replied with a nod.

Pala felt guilt overwhelm her. She hadn’t thought about Whiterun since she’d arrived at High Hrothgar. She wondered if she was still Thane after all this time. Undoubtedly though, someone had heard rumors of her death by now and hopefully the young Housecarl Lydia had been reassigned.

“I will leave after the midday meal,” she said, beginning to walk away from him. She needed to pack a few things, just enough to make it look like she was a regular person when she arrived in Whiterun.

“Before you go,” Arngeir said, “Paarthurnax has asked that you see him.”

“He asked for me?” she asked. 

“There is not much time left,” Arngeir replied. “Alduin’s forces grow each month. We cannot wait for him to attack. The battle must be taken to him and Paarthurnax knows how to do that.”

“Of course, Master Arngeir,” Pala replied, with a nod of her head.

It didn’t take long for Pala to pack a bag and get it ready to go, but before she left, she headed past the fogs that led to the true summit of the mountain. Having to shout the fog clear with her Clear Skies rite a few times, it took nearly an entire candlemark to reach the dragon’s cave.

“Drem Yol Lok, Dovahkiin,” Paarthurnax said.

“Drem Yol Lok, Vohlok Paarthurnax,” she replied, with a deep bow. “Master Arngeir informed me of your summons,” she said, bowing her head.

“You’ve languished far too long with the Greybeards, Briinah,” he replied. “It is time you began your true training.”

Pala waited for him to continue.

“If you wish to save the Joorre of Taazokaan,” he started. “You must find the Dovah Kel and use it here. Only then can you access the Tiid’Ahraan. Only then can you discover the Thu’um you need to defeat Alduin.”

“Why tell me this, Vohlok Paarthurnax?”

He was the Master of the Greybeards, but Pala never expected Paarthurnax to actively aid her. As Dovahkiin it was her job, not a dovah’s, to save Tamriel from Aldiun.

“The others don’t trust this Dovah,” he said. “But you know the truth, Dovahkiin. We are not ronit. We must band together to save the world from Alduin and his generals.”

“Where can I find the Elder Scroll, Vohlok Paarthurnax?”

“I do not know,” he said. “The locations are hidden from the Dovah as well. Speak to Arngeir before you leave. He may know more.”

Pala made her way back to the fort as Paarthurnax disappeared into the fog at the summit. She never expected that she would be sent to retrieve an Elder Scroll. And Arngeir was certainly not going to like this either.

Arngeir waited by the doorway, next to her pack, and straightened when she walked in from her trip to the summit.

“Paarthurnax has asked me to find the Dragon Scroll,” she said, looking down at her bag before returning her gaze to the old man. “He said you might know where it’s located.”

“Such blasphemies are the calling of mages, Dragonborn. Not for the followers of the Way. Take your question to the College of Winterhold. They may be able to help you.”

Pala grimaced, she hadn’t ever been comfortable with college educated mages.

“Is there no other way to defeat Alduin?”

“Perhaps not,” he said, looking regretful. “But Dragonrend was used once before, was it not?”

Pala nodded, it was clear that the old Greybeard knew exactly what Paarthurnax had told her. 

“Here we are again. Have you considered that Alduin was not meant to be defeated? That those who overthrew him in ancient times only postponed the day of reckoning. They did not stop it. If the world is meant to end, so be it. Let it end and be reborn.”

Pala faltered. She’d spent [i]months[/i] learning from the Greybeards and now that they had a possible way to defeat Alduin, they didn’t want her to use it?

“So, you teach me the voice in order to defeat the World-Eater and then proclaim all my training to be for naught?”

Anger flared in her chest.

“I will retrieve the Horn as you asked,” she said. “If I do not return, you’ll know where I’ve gone.”

Thankful that she’d already packed her belongings, Pala stormed out of the keep. Anger flared off her body like heat as she began the trek down to Helgen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive the sudden scene change, I chickened out and didn't write the dinner. This is what happens when I don't have a beta :(


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pala heads to Whiterun to collect the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller.

Chapter 15

It was clear, as Pala returned to the world of the mortals, that summer had reached Skyrim. The trees were in full bloom as she walked west toward Whiterun from Helgen. She’d been playing the conversations of the day before in her head non-stop. After renting a room in Helgen’s inn for the night, and not getting any sleep, Pala left for Whiterun first thing in the morning.

The walls of the hold had been repaired after the battle at Whiterun, Pala had overheard that the Stormcloaks had won a few battles in the different Forts; but it seemed as though the Holds themselves were staying strong. She wasn’t sure what side she wanted to win, but she hoped the civil war would end soon.

With her hood down, Pala entered the city greeting the guards and inquiring about an inn. She knew exactly where the old one was, but with the reconstruction of her face Pala decided to play ignorant.

“Straight on back at the end of the main road,” the guard said. “You can almost see it from here.”

“Thanks,” she smiled and stepped into the city. A few kids run past her playing tag and Pala smiled. Though she was never really bothered by it, Pala realized that she missed the noise of Markarth and Riften while she’d been living up on the mountains. The Greybeards might enjoy the silence, but she preferred to be with people. Even in the sanctuary, the Brotherhood had been a collectively loud bunch, with training bouts and celebratory dinners after a successful assassination.

Entering the Bannered Mare, Pala was surprised to see a few of the Companions in their wolf armor lounging about and sharing stories with one another. Perhaps it would be easier to get to the Horn than she expected. She paid for a room for the night and dropped her bag off before returning to the tavern to settle in for a meal and some eavesdropping.

She ordered a plate of roast and vegetables and found a table out of the way of the main crowd. Though she kept telling herself that she was no longer in the assassination business, Pala couldn’t help but situate herself as she’d been taught.

The Companions exploded with laughter and Pala caught the eye of one of the twins at the table. He smiled at her and held up his mug in her direction. She nodded a polite thanks at his silent toast and took a sip from her own drink before returning to her meal.

It didn’t take long for the twin to walk up to her table, with two mugs in his hand. She wasn’t sure which one it was, but it was better to play ignorant anyway.

“A lady like you shouldn’t have to dine alone,” he said, with a smirk on his lips.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked, working hard to keep the sudden flare of rage from her voice.

“Only that you look weary and probably deserve a break from whatever shadows you’re running from.”

Pala looked at him, trying and failing to get a read on his intentions.

“Very well,” she said, waving her hand at the seat across from her. “You can sit and drink, but that’s all I’m promising.”

“I wouldn’t dare impose anything else on a woman carrying such sharp daggers on her hips,” he said, glancing at the sheath she still wore.

“I suppose I should have left the weapons in my room,” she said with a shrug, swallowing down a mouthful of ale.

“It doesn’t hurt to let the ruffians know you’re armed,” he shrugged. “Name’s Vilkas. I’m a member of the Companions.”

“Well met,” she said. “Katarina and not a member of the Companions.”

He laughed heartily.

“Fair enough.”

The couple talked for most of the night and Pala found herself enjoying his company as much as she’d enjoyed Argis’ in the beginning. She missed her friend greatly and wished she could reconnect with him, but it would only bring trouble to all if she went searching.

“The Harbinger is always looking for more to join our ranks,” he said, as the night was winding down.

“Join the Companions?” she asked.

“You look like you’ve got a strong arm, and the Nines know we need more women in the ranks.”

“What makes you say that?” she asked, shifting in her seat.

“Eh,” he shrugged after a few moments of silence. “New blood is always good to have around.”

Pala knew a deflection when she saw one and nodded.

“Maybe I’ll stop by before I leave town. It doesn’t hurt to have extra family,” she smiled.

“True,” Vilkas smiled and downed the last of his ale.

The next morning, Pala found herself standing on the steps of Jorrvaskr. She hoped that getting inside and talking about joining would be enough for her to search the place for the Horn. She really didn’t want to betray anyone, she had been through enough betrayal for several lifetimes.

“Welcome to Jorrvaskr, stranger,” a woman said, as Pala walked into the companions’ hall. “Can I help you with anything?”

“I was speaking with Vilkas last night,” she said. “He said I could talk to the Harbinger today about joining the Companions.”

“Oskar is downstairs near his chambers,” the maid said. “Take the stairs then go to the end of the hall, he should be down there with one of the twins.”

Pala nodded, surprised that they weren’t even going to escort her through the building.

She took the stairs down into the basement level and immediately sought out the familiar form of the Harbinger. Still remembering his offer for a drink after the fight, Pala swallowed down. She wasn’t about to take him up on the offer.

“You must be Katarina. Vilkas couldn’t stop talking about you all night,” his brother said. “I’m Farkas.”

Pala nodded.

“All night?” she asked, with a grimace.

“He wasn’t that bad,” Oskar said with a laugh, then turned to look at her. “I’m Oskar, reluctant Harbinger of the Companions.”

The man stood and held out his hand for her to take.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, taking his hand. “But why reluctant?”

“Because, he’d only been a member of the Companions for a couple months before Kodlak named him our leader,” Farkas said with a grin.

“You don’t enjoy the position?” Pala asked, taking a step back.

“I wanted to be out there helping the people, not babysitting milkdrinkers,” Oskar laughed.

Pala nodded. He echoed her own feelings when Babette had made her the Brotherhood leader. Though she’d only been in charge for a few weeks before Sithis kicked her out, Pala understood where he was coming from.

“I can understand that,” she said, looking around the area. She didn’t immediately spot the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, but she knew it would likely be in a place where they kept treasured items. She wasn’t sure if she should ask outright about it or truly steal it. Both ways could work and both could be equally fatal.

In the end, Pala decided on an honest route. She remembered how devoted Oskar had been during the battle and thought maybe she could appeal to his honorable side.

She sat with Farkas and Oskar for an hour or so before gathering the courage to speak up.

“I’m wondering,” she said, during a lull in the conversation. “If I could speak with you in private, Harbinger.”

Deliberately staying as neutral as possible, not wanting them to think she had a hidden agenda, she waited for her answer.

“I’m not sure I should leave you with an armed woman,” Farkas spoke out. “With the increase of Brotherhood sightings lately.”

“Perhaps you’re right, Farkas,” Oskar said, after a moment.

Pala chewed on her bottom lip while waiting for the Harbinger to turn his attention back at Pala.

“Farkas is a member of the Inner Circle,” he said. “Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of both him and his brother.”

Pala glanced over her shoulder, following Oskar’s sudden shift in eye contact, to see Vilkas standing a few paces away.

Groaning slightly, Pala nodded, accepting the Harbinger’s ruling.

“Well, it’s not exactly how I was hoping to bring this up,” she began.

A loud crash caught the attention of the Companions in the basement living quarters and a shout caused the brothers to run upstairs. Pala followed right behind Oskar as they raced to find out what happened.

“Dragon!” a man shouted, standing in the doorway of the hall.

Pala let out a string of curses. Of course she didn’t have her bow and arrows on her. The compulsion was such a permanent hum in her heart that she barely recognized the difference between Alduin’s return and an attack.

The Companions quickly raced off to arm themselves and Pala grabbed the arm of the first Companion to run past her.

“I need a bow and full quiver, quickly,” she ordered.

The milkdrinker nodded and ran off, returning a few moments later with a cheap imperial bow and some steel arrows that must have been requisitioned after the fighting.

After taking the subpar weapons from the boy, she followed the sounds of roaring dragons and battle cries up and over part of the wall. Out in the fields to the east a red dragon could be seen fighting above a farm. Already twenty or so guards and companions were in the field attempting to shoot down the dragon.

“YOR TULL SHOR” she shouted, racing toward the group. Her voice turned to flame as she pointed her mouth in the direction of the taunting dragon.

“Dovahkiin,” it grimaced as his wings caught fire.

“FOS ROH DAH” she shouted, feeling her knees buckle.

The dragon faltered and landed on the ground as the power of her voice knocked it off balance. The guards began to hack away at the beast as it crushed the garden below his feet.

“Kill it,” she shouted as best she could, her throat rasping and in pain after her calls.

An arm wrapped around her waist, to hold her up, as she watched the battle.

She looked over to see Oskar beside her and wondered what he knew. Unlike others she’d run into during the fight, he didn’t look surprised at all to see her shouting at the dragon.

“I’m alright,” she said, pulling away from his grasp. She took the daggers from her hips and raced toward the dragon to complete the kill.

When it finally breathed its last, Farkas jumped off his back and the dragon’s skin caught fire. The guards gasped around her and Pala watched once again as the soul of the dragon left the useless body and hovered in the air before colliding with her body.

She stumbled back but the sickness was greatly reduced from what it used to be. The two shouts had equalized some of the pressure.

“Dovahkiin,” the whispers began as the other guards came up to her.

“Let’s get her back to the Sleeping Quarters,” Pala heard Oskar order.

“Clean up the body, take the bones and do what you will, but give the Dovahkiin some space.”

Pala turned to see Vilkas and Farkas coming toward them.

“Be careful with her,” Oskar said. “The soul will probably make her ill.”

Just before she blacked out, something that hadn’t happened in months, Pala wondered how Oskar had known.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of the possible Dragonborn story-lines begin to merge.

Pala sighed as she looked at the wooden slats that crisscrossed over the ceiling. She really needed to stop waking up in strange rooms. 

Turning her head, Pala saw the twins and Oscar talking quietly just outside the room, where she’d introduced herself as Katarina to the Harbinger.

She sat up, the movement catching the attention of Vilkas, and reached out for a nearby pitcher to pour herself something to drink. Her throat feltdry and raspy from the force of the shouts. 

“She’s awake,” Vilkas said, nudging his brother. The three men walked into the room a moment later.

“How are you feeling?” Oskar asked, stopping just inside his quarters while the twins took seats nearby.

“Better,” Pala said, rubbing the back of her neck. “Shouting in dragon tongue is not meant for an Imperial body.”

Vilkas, who sat at the foot of the bed, nodded. 

“But you’re not Imperial,” Oskar said.

Pala turned her attention quickly back on the Harbinger.

“Of course I am,” she said, fear rising in her gut.

“You don’t need to lie to me, Pala,” he said, calling her out.

Her stomach twisted painfully as she looked for her daggers. It was entirely possible that he was an undercover agent for the Brotherhood and she’d walked right into the trap.

“You don’t need to fear me either,” he continued. “I was part of the guard battalion that helped you in Riften.”

Realization dawned as she looked at Oskar closer. She hadn’t met all of the guards after Ludvik had taken her in, but it was possible this man had worked in the group. 

“It was quite the sight to see her rush in from the darkness,” he said, turning to look at the twins.

“Did you know it was me this morning?” she asked, leaning back into the headboard of the bed. If someone she’d met a year ago could still recognize her, even after a face change, then she needed to finish her job faster than planned. It wouldn’t be long before Nazir found her again or put two and two together.

“Not until I saw you race toward that dragon, with that fierce look on your face,” Oskar admitted. “There’s nothing quite like watching a woman face down a dragon.”

Farkas chuckled nearby.

“Aye,” he commented. “Scary as all Oblivion,” he laughed.

Pala grimaced. That wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Oskar said. “Those of us from the commander’s group know better than to spread it around.”

“How did you end up in Whiterun?” she asked, suddenly curious.

“A question for another time perhaps,” he said with a smile. “But you had a question to ask me before we were so rudely interrupted.”

Pala groaned, remembering the conversation from earlier. 

“I was sent here to retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller.”

“How did you know we had it?” he asked, searching her eyes.

“The Greybeards told me,” she said, continuing with her honesty streak. “They said that it had been taken from its place and needed to be returned.”

“It was picked up during an expedition to save a kidnapped member of Whiterun,” Vilkas said.

“The Greybeards wanted it back.”

“Yet you didn’t try to infiltrate our ranks and steal it back?”

“I’m not a thief,” she said, looking pointedly at Oskar. He knew what she really was, though she would never admit to it. Especially not after the betrayal of Sithis.

“You could have told us anything,” Oskar said. “In order to complete your mission.”

“That is true, but the only people who know my true identity are in Riften or in this room. The others,” she said, looking at Oskar. “They will keep quiet?”

“You saved our lives that day,” Oskar said. “If the Dovahkiin wanted her secret kept, then we were going to keep it.”

Oskar looked at the twins and turned back to her, speaking in a loud whisper with a grin.

“Besides, if the Master of the Thieves Guild orders you to do something, you do it.”

Pala nodded. 

“You knew then, about who he was?”

“He’s been a lifelong friend,” Oskar admitted. “He sent me out here to keep an eye out for more sightings.”

“You recognized me in the bar that day,” she said, suddenly remembering that morning.

“I did,” he said. 

“And the Thaneship?”

“Just one way I could make sure you were rewarded. But then, you disappeared.”

“I had no choice,” she admitted.

He only nodded.

“Besides. Now I am Katarina, the Dovahkiin, and she has a mission to complete,” she said nodding her understanding. “And I intend to complete it.”

“Then it’s true? Alduin really has returned?” Farkas asked.

She nodded.

“By the Nines,” Vilkas said, leaning back into the chair.

“The Horn is yours then,” Oskar announced. “But might I recommend that you stay in Whiterun for a few days? I want to make sure your sickness is gone.”

Pala nodded. 

“I’m sure I can do that, but I need to go to Riften soon. There are things I need to take care of.”

“We’ll leave you to rest then,” Oskar said after a moment. “But know that you have the Companions at your back, should you need it.”

“I appreciate it,” she said.

The next few days passed quickly. Pala was introduced to many citizens of Whiterun, many of whom wanted to meet and thank the Dragonborn. Jorrvaskr turned into a temporary meeting hall, that thankfully Oskar seemed to be okay with. 

She spent a lot of time regaling men, women, and children alike with stories of her dragon kills; but Pala made sure to stay well away from stories of killing dragons before she became Katarina. The only time she told the truth about it was when Jarl Balgruf asked her about the first time she realized what she was.

Seeing that the Dovahkiin was in his city, the Jarl had insisted on having a dinner with the few clan leaders and the inner circle of the Companions. 

Later that night, after the ale barrels had been emptied, Pala found herself walking through the city with Oskar. Though Jorrvaskr was next to the Dragonsreach Palace, she hadn’t been quite ready to turn in for the night.

“I have another favor to ask you,” she said, as he led the way into the cloud district.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I need to return the Horn to the Greybeards, but I have no desire to see them quite yet.”

Oskar nodded and kept silent, something that Pala was grateful for. The man had an uncanny knack for knowing when silence was necessary.

“I also need to travel to the College in Winterhold to research,” she paused, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to say what she needed out loud. “Could you send one of the Companions to take the Horn up the mountain? I have a few septims I could spare to pay you for the job, but right now I just can’t return.”

“I’ll send the twins,” he said, after a moment. “They’re the best suited for a trip up to the Throat of the World.”

“I appreciate it,” she said. “”How much will a job like that cost me?”

“For the Dovahkiin?” he started.

“No, for a paying client,” she interrupted.

“500 septims,” he said.

Pala thought for a moment. She had a few gems she could sell in the morning to make up for the loss but judged it as a fair price.

“I’ll have the money ready in the morning. I appreciate this, Oskar.”

“Can I ask why you don’t want to see the Greybeards?”

“Before I left, we got in an argument about,” Pala trailed off. “Nevermind. It’s not important. They are wrong and I intend to prove it to them.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he laughed, leading the way back to Jorrvaskr.

Just before they reached the doorway, Pala paused and pulled him to the side of the path. 

“One more favor, this time for the Dovahkiin?”

Oskar laughed.

“Do you know of any contacts that your Commander might have in Winterhold?”

Oskar looked thoughtful as he tried to remember.

“I ask only because I know the college’s refusal to let outsiders into their building, but I can’t necessarily admit to who I am.”

He seemed to understand her need to avoid joining the school as he spoke a few moments later.

“He does have a fence in the school,” Oskar admitted. “But I believe I can do you one better.”

Pala looked up at him with a questioning gaze.

“The archmage,” he said with a grin. “She used to be one of our members.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pala gets some help in taking down Alduin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: some of the text is borrowed from the Skyrim dialogue. No infringement is intended.
> 
> So sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. I couldn't figure out how to handle this fight without a word for word reproduction. I think I like this better.

After nearly a week of research within the bowels of the College’s libraries, Pala hadn’t learned nearly as much as she’d hoped about the Elder Scroll that the Arch-Mage had hidden in her quarters. It had been a long time since she’d last been holed up in a building such as this. The dragon souls that resided within her were becoming restless and Pala knew she could not hold off on her duty for much longer.

Pala was grateful for the amount of time that the woman was giving to her to peruse the private book collection and not everyone at the school was happy about the privileges she’d been granted. Urag, the man in charge was still bristly when she had to interact with him; but for the most part the students had been kind and at least marginally helpful when she asked them questions.

On the 3rd of Sun’s Height, with the Arch-Mage travelling with her, Pala left the sanctuary of the College and headed toward her destiny. 

The two women shared a carriage to Ivarstead, and then, since the Arch-Mage thankfully knew how to travel as a Companion, they took their packs and made their way up the 7000 steps to the top of the mountain. The journey up the steps took nearly a full day.

It was the first time that Korilina had made the climb, she’d admitted, and Pala did her best to slow her pace to keep Korilina beside or directly behind her. The last thing Pala needed was for the Arch-Mage to lose the trail and end up as frost troll food. She did not want to face returning to the College without the Altmer.

When they finally made it up to the fortress of High Hrothgar, Pala was tempted to sneak past the building so they could continue on to the Throat of the World. Pala had no desire to talk to the Greybeards after the way she’d parted from them earlier in the season. But, looking back at her travel companion, Pala could see that the Arch-Mage needed a break. The air was thinner up at the peak, and no doubt the mage needed to spend at least a little time growing accustomed to it.

“Come on then,” she said, smiling over her shoulder at the Altmer. “Let’s get a warm meal in our stomachs and drop our packs off, then we can finish the trip.”

“Who’s this?’ Arngeir asked when they walked into the main building. The old man was pointing toward the Archmage suspiciously.

“Someone who is going to help me with my destiny,” she said, snarling at the man.

“I wish you would have warned us,” he said, eyeing the Arch-Mage carefully.

“I don’t have much time; you’ve said as much yourself.”

“You sent the wolves with the Horn,” he said, changing the subject.

Pala nodded, knowing he was looking to rile her up; but Pala would not be dissuaded from her mission. 

“I understand I could have handled that differently,” she replied, in the awkward silence that followed. “But I needed to get the Elder Scroll.”

“I still believe that this Shout will be of no use.”

“I will do everything I can to save this world, Arngeir. If you feel you must stop me, so be it.”

Taking a deep breath, Pala reached for the dagger at her hip. She could feel Korilina take a few steps back, terror washing off the woman though Pala didn’t need to turn around to sense it.

“I will not fight you on this, Dovahkiin,” Arngeir sighed. “But if things do not work as you wished, do not blame us.”

“No,” Pala sighed, removing her hand from the hilt of the blade. “But I must try.”

After a meal and a change of clothing, Pala and the Arch-Mage left the fortress and headed up the path that would lead them to Paarthurnax. Using her voice to clear the snow and clouds, it took nearly a candlemark to climb the rest of the way. Each time she shouted the weather away, Pala’s throat burned. The souls of the dragons that resided in her chest were beginning to calm once more, as if they knew what was to come. 

“Drem Yol Lok, Briinah,”

“Zeymah,” Pala replied bowing deeply toward the brown dragon. 

“Do you return triumphant?”

Pala asked for Korilina to give her the scroll, and when it appeared, the sound that escaped the dragon’s mouth sounded almost like a laugh. He seemed pleasantly surprised that she’d returned with the scroll.

“You have it. The Kel - the Elder Scroll. Tiid kreh... qalos. Time shudders at its touch.”

The dragon paced in front of her, as if he could no longer contain the energy within him. 

“There is no question. You are doom-driven. Kogaan Akatosh. The very bones of the earth are at your disposal. Go then. Fulfill your destiny. Take the Scroll to the Time-Wound. Do not delay. Alduin will be coming. He cannot miss the signs."

Pala stepped toward the shimmering air, the scroll in her hand.

“I don’t know what this is going to do,” she said, more to herself than toward the altmer just a few steps behind her.

“You know enough,” the woman said, giving Pala the little boost of confidence.

Pala opened the scroll revealing the circular map of the text. The world around her turned fuzzy as the glyphs burned themselves into her eyes. 

“Close the scroll,” Korilina advised, though her voice sounded far off.

Pala allowed the scroll to roll back into the container though she was still able to see the text in her vision.

The vision of the past played out before her eyes, Pala saw the men who’d used the Dragonrend shout as they fought with the World-eater. Unable to move, she was helpless until the moment when the Scroll was used and Alduin disappeared into the time wound.

The vision cleared from her mind with the words of an old nord echoing in her head.

“May the spirits have mercy on our souls.”

Pala looked around, praying to Sithis and the other Divines that this would work. Finally, her vision cleared enough to see Paarthurnax take flight. 

The black-scaled form of Aldiun appeared, bursting out of the clouds, and Pala shouted the words of Dragonrend into the skies.

The dragon souls within her chest empowered her, and made each dodge, strike, and shout that much more powerful.

The fighting lasted an interminable time. 

Beside Pala, almost in tune with her movements, Korilina cast spell after spell trying to injure the dragon. Her spells could hit the World-eater when he took to flight, unlike Pala’s daggers. 

In the back of her mind, Pala wished that she knew at least some spells to aid in the battle.

Whenever the pain in her throat abated, Pala would shout toward the skies once more, bringing the World-eater crashing down to the mountain top. 

Paarthurnax would claw and bite and breathe fire at his brother dragon whenever he took flight.

Sweat beaded on her forehead even in the cold air of the mountaintop. Though Korilina was able to heal a lot of her wounds, something Pala had not been expecting, there were still places that ached and bled despite the fact that she could tell Alduin was tiring.

"Meyz mul, Dovahkiin.” Alduin shouted as he snapped at Korilina.“You have become strong. But I am Al-du-in, Firstborn of Akatosh! Mulaagi zok lot!.

Aldiun pumped his wings, and Pala’s throat closed, the dragons inside her suddenly silencing her words even as she struggled against the windshear of the dragon’s wings.

“I cannot be slain here, by you or anyone else! You cannot prevail against me. I will outlast you... mortal!"

The dragon flew off and Pala attempted to shout once more, but her aim went wide and Aldiun disappeared into the clouds.

“No,” she said, her legs going out from under her.

Within a moment, the Arch-Mage was at her side, pulling her against the Altmer’s chest, trying to comfort Pala. 

“He got away,” she muttered. “How in Oblivion did he get away?!”

Paarthurnax crashed into the snowy banks nearby, sending a shudder through the mountain.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to get updated, dear readers. I had a *#&$ of a time just trying to get through the Aldiun scene. Please forgive me.

Chapter 19

When Jarl Balgruuf refused to aid Pala in the capture of the dragon within his estate while the Civil War threatened his hold, Pala along with her new companions, Korilina, and Oskar the Harbinger, spent nearly a month organizing a peaceful meeting between Ulfric Stormcloak and General Tullius. Originally, Pala had intended on doing her duty alone, but both Korilina and Oskar insisted on helping, using what influence they had as leaders within Skyrim to sway the faction leaders. 

She’d never met the Imperial General before, so she felt comfortable addressing him face-to-face knowing that she wouldn’t reveal who she really was. With Jarl Ulfric, it was a different matter. Naturally she could rely on her face change with the surgeon to do most of the work for her; but there was too much of a risk to not have other avenues in place to keep her identity hidden. Unwilling to risk it, Pala kept a mask over her nose and mouth at all times, just in case. 

It had taken some work to convince Arngeir to allow them to use High Hrothgar as a meeting ground, the man was angry with her dealings with the Blades, despite how little she actually cared for their methods; but in the end, she’d convinced the leader of the Greybeards that it was necessary. 

Negotiations had been disasterous, taking days for either side to come to an agreement, rather than the few hours she’d expected. Pala had hated sitting in the chambers trying to prevent fist fights from breaking out while the two sides bickered over this hold or that city; but in the end, the cease fire looked like it would be beneficial for both sides.

Arngeir and the other Greybeards drafted up copies of the signed treaty and they were sent to the Holds across Skyrim, notifying its citizens of the ceasefire. In a way, Pala wished that she could postpone traveling to Sovngarde to allow the peace to last indefinitely; but she knew that the longer the delayed the trip, the more souls would be lost to Aldiun’s hunger.

When the political leaders left the Throat of the World and no one had died, Pala wondered if the Eight Divines really had presided over the meeting. Though, she thought with a grimace, Sithis had certainly not been in attendance, or some of them wouldn’t have made it out alive.

Pala waited two weeks at High Hrothgar after the dignitaries had left, before she made the trek back down the mountain. She’d wanted word to spread of the temporary truce before she showed up at Dragonsreach demanding to use the trap. Hoping that the truce would continue on after she’d rid the world of Alduin, Pala decided she would delay just a bit in order for the citizens to get used to not fighting. Maybe, when the fighting resumed, they would refuse.

She snorted at the thought, as she walked down the snowy path. A couple of weeks of peace wouldn’t be nearly enough for many of them to forget their allegiances. 

When, a few days later, she reached Jarl Balgruuf’s estate, well after Harbinger Oskar had sung her praises both in the taverns and at the Jarl’s feet, she was not surprised to be granted a place to stay within the Palace.

The Jarl had been grateful and had used her position to try to figure out where the leaders stood.

“I do not want war in my home,” he said. “We’re finally able to rebuild after Ulfric’s attack.”

“I understand, my Jarl. But neither side will budge. I even attempted to make Ulfric aware that it is not the Empire we must fight, but the Dominion. Unfortunately he would not listen.”

“You truly believe that?”

“I spoke with the Emperor a few days before he was killed,” she said, the lie slipping off her tongue easily. “He confessed many things to me, but one amongst the many was that he was the only thing able to keep the Dominion from completely taking over the lands. Cyrodiil, Skyrim, and the others, all the provinces are threatened by the Aldemeri and only the power of the Emperor can keep them at bay. The true enemy will not wait while we settle our squabbles within our own provinces.”

The Jarl paused, his fork hanging in the air.

“You are certain of this?”

Pala nodded. 

“Unless we end this Civil War quickly, they will invade like skeevers.”

He frowned.

“And the longer I wait to kill Aldiun, the fewer men and women we will have to fight the battles.”

“I wish I had been open to your words a couple months ago,” he admitted.

The aging Jarl looked over at the few guests at the table. 

“Tomorrow morning, I grant you permission to use the trap to call down the dragon. I want my guards on duty and ready in case your plan fails; but I also wish for the people of Skyrim to bear witness as you leave on the back of the dragon that will take you to your battlefield.”

Pala nodded and felt a blush rise in her cheeks. Tomorrow would be a grand day indeed.

*****

 

The world went black as she pulled the sword from the corpse and Pala stumbled forward before collapsing to her knees. 

The fight against Alduin was long and arduous, not to mention the journey had brought her personally into the afterlife.

The dragon souls within her chest roared, some with pride and others with anger at what she’d managed to do. 

She could hear Tsun speaking somewhere in the distance, but the dragons kept her from responding. It sounded important what he was saying and though she could not make out his words, the familiar feeling of a shout washing over her was the only warning she had that something else was happening.

When the world finally righted itself and her vision and mind cleared, Pala looked at her surroundings to find herself back in Tamriel. She sent a quick blessing to the memories of Gormlaith Golden-Hilt, Hakon One-Eye, and Felldir the Old, hoping that they would find peace now that the World-eater had been vanquished. Without their help, she’d never have succeeded in killing the dragon permanently. Alduin had truly been a terrifying foe in his element.

She tried to stand but her knees were weak and Pala realized that she was leaning against a broken wall at the top of the Throat of the World. 

Deep, soul shattering rumbles filled the air, the mountain shaking, and Pala looked around to see many dragons gathered around the clearing. She saw Ohdahviing and Paarthurnax along with a couple others she hadn’t met.

“You’ve returned triumphant, Dovahkiin,” Ohdahviing said, landing a few paces away from her. The wind barely kicked up around her as he touched stone with his feet.

“I was right to help you,” he continued. “You have proven yourself worthy of loyalty now that you have defeated Alduin. You have rid the dragons of one unworthy to rule.”

“What will the Dovah do now?” she asked, pulling herself up to sit on a crumbled section of the wall.

“I’m not sure,” Ohdahviing admitted. “It will take time to organize our numbers.”

Pala nodded.

“I intend on asking the others to join the Way of the Voice. Mortals can be trusted,” Paarthurnax said. “The Dovah owe you a debt, briinah.”

Paarthurnax took to the sky along after a moment with the rest of the dragons, leaving only Ohdahviing at his nest with Pala.

“Not all of the dovah believe in Paarthurnax,” Ohdahviing admitted. “He has a hard journey ahead of him.”

“And you?” she asked the dragon.

“Of Paarthurnax, I am not sure. But I believe in the strength of the Dovahkiin. Should you require my aid, briinah, I will answer your call.”

He took to the skies then, without another word, and  
disappeared into the mists.   
Pala slumped back, landing in a snowdrift, feeling exhausted. 

It didn’t take long before Arngeir arrived, shouting the mists clear, and bringing with him the other Greybeards.

“We heard their parting words,” Arngeir said, kneeling at her side. “You have completed your duties then?”

Pala nodded, and looked up at Borri. 

“I did not devour his soul, as with the others, but Alduin is defeated both in Tamriel and Sovngarde,” she said. 

“There’s nothing to be said then,” Arngeir replied. “Perhaps you did not succeed.”

“I did what I could,” she said. “And the dragons will be free to move past Alduin’s rule.”

“And you?” Arngeir asked.

“I do not know,” she shrugged.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 20

It was Morning Star, in the deep of winter before Pala decided to move on with her life. She’d been living with the Greybeards since the defeat of Alduin was beginning to go stir crazy in High Hrothgar. 

Not really trusting the old men completely in the first place, Pala knew that she needed to find her own life, now that her dovahkiin duties were finished. With the first of the year a few days in the past, Pala knew it was time for her to enjoy a fresh start as well. 

In the first few days after Aldiun’s defeat, Pala secluded herself in the rooms that the Greybeards had afforded to her at the beginning of her training. It wasn’t until Paarthurnax summoned her that she even bothered to bathe or change into new clothing.

“You do yourself a disservice, briinah,” Paarthurnax said, as she came into view. The giant dragon huffed a small puff of fire in her direction, presumably because he was upset with her. “You have defeated the World Destroyer yet you lock yourself away.”

Pala sighed, not really wanting another lecture. She just couldn’t convince herself to move on, with her destiny fulfilled, what else was she good for?

“You should not be ashamed, you should be rejoicing with your family.”

“My family is the Greybeards,” she said, waving her hand haphazardly in the direction of the fortress behind her, “and your kind.”

“There are those throughout Tamriel that call you family,” Paarthurnax retorted. “Should you not go see them?”

“If I leave this mountain I’m sure to be hunted down. There are many who wish to see me dead. I’d rather stay here.”

“The Dovah do not hide from that what they fear,” he said. “They fight back.”

“The Dovah are immortals,” she spat out.

“Then prove yourself to be immortal,” he chided.

“Excuse me?” she asked. Being immortal was news to her.

“Convince those who hunt you that they cannot kill you, and then go live out the rest of your life in peace. You may not truly be immortal, your body may one day turn to dust, but your name will live forever.”

“The Brotherhood will not stop hunting me as long as I live,” she said. “Sithis was quite adamant that my dovahkiin blood was an insult to his worshippers.”

“Then take the fight to them,” he replied.”Rid the world of your enemies.” 

“I have no desire to fight the Creator of the Daedra,” she said.

“Sithis has given up his claim on your soul; you need not worry about him. It is the mortals that cause you worry.”

Pala sighed, wondering how the dragon could possibly know that with the certainty within his voice.

“Have you thought that perhaps I wish to not kill any longer? My hand has been a weapon since I was born. I do not wish to end any more lives. My hands have served their purpose.”

“What will you do then?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she yelled at the dragon, suddenly snapping despite the concern his words carried. “Don’t you think I’d be doing it, if I knew what to do?”

“Drem, Briinah,” Paarthurnax said, his voice rumbling and taking on a soothing tone. “It is clear that you are not happy to be here.”

“I am restless,” she said. “Without Alduin and his Generals to fight, what am I good for? Should I go back into the world and have children? Does that really sound like me?”

She looked over the cliff at the world below, hidden partially by the fog. 

“Do I go down there and fight in a civil war that I don’t believe in? That world down there is a waste,” she blurted out, pointing down at the top of Dragonsreach barely visible in the distance. “Perhaps I should have just left Alduin to do what he wished.”

“You do not truly believe that.”

“Yes,” she said, anger filling her voice, then she changed her mind. “No. I don’t know.”

“You are lost, Briinah.”

Pala collapsed into the snow as his words sank in.

“One of your creators lives yet,” Paarthurnax mentioned.

“My father,” she nodded.

“Go to him,” he suggested. “Perhaps he is worth living for, fighting for.”

Pala smiled and looked up at the large dragon looming over her.

“You are right,” she said, having forgotten about Delvin and their rather convoluted history. “That may be your best idea to date.”

“Did I not tell you of the Dragonrend?” 

Pala started, hearing the teasing tone in the dragon’s words. Had he actually just told a joke?

She scoffed and looked around.

“Fine, second best idea.” Pala pulled herself up and looked at the dragon.

“Thank you, Paarthurnax,” she said. “I am proud to call you zeymah.”

If a dragon could blush, Pala was sure that the large beast would have as he heard her call him brother. The ancient dragon had called her sister since her first meeting with him, but Pala knew that she’d yet to acknowledge the bond they shared.


	20. Chapter 20

A couple days later, Pala found herself entering Riften with a pack over her shoulder and a smile on her face. The weather had been favorable for her journey, despite the season, and Pala had made good time cutting through Whiterun province and crossing the border into the Rift. She’d avoided the towns and villages along the way wanting to keep those who spotted her to a minimum.

To her surprise, the guards at the gate had let her in without hassle. Pala hadn’t felt bold enough to ask why the sudden change of heart, was it because of who she was as Dovahkiin, was it that they now knew she was Delvin’s daughter, or was it just that they were more lax with their duties.

Pala did not recognize the men, so it was certainly not on Oskar’s recommendation, nor likely on Ludvik’s either.

Her stomach leapt into her throat as she walked the familiar path toward Mara’s temple, but at the last moment, she glanced over her shoulder. 

She wasn’t sure that she’d be welcomed at the Ragged Flagon, but surely Bryn would be out peddling his potions at the market and maybe she could judge the guild’s mood by how Bryn reacted to her appearance.

She walked up to his counter to see a few poultices already missing from the normal set-up. At least he’d made a few sales, she thought feeling her confidence rise just a bit.

“You’re doing well today,” she said, eyeing the glass bottles from under the lip of her hood.

There was a pause and Pala kept her eyes on the bottles, trepidation suddenly returning full force.

“Lass,” he grinned, coming out from the back of his stand.

Bryn wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off the cobbled square slightly, and Pala found herself returning the embrace.

“We didn’t know what had become of you,” he said, whispering in her ear.

“Hopefully you know of Alduin’s demise by now,” she laughed, hugging him close. “With the Harbinger and Archmage’s help, I doubt it’s been kept secret.”

“Thems the rumors,” he said, returning her to the street. His hands traveled down her arms and took her hands in his. “But no one had seen or heard from the Dragonborn, Del’s been in a right pickle since you disappeared. It’s good to see you alive and well.”

“There was some recovery time,” she said with a shrug, not wanting to talk about how lost she’d felt just a few days ago. Her eyes threatened to prickle with tears but Pala swallowed them back.

“Well if anyone deserved a break, it would be you,” he laughed, pulling away. “I want to hear the whole story,” he said. “If you’re willing to share.”

“I’ll tell everyone,” she said, his infectious joy causing her to grin. “But perhaps only once. So you better get a scribe to write it all down.”

“We will have a feast in the Flagon,” he said, with a grin.

“You sure this is alright?”

“Lass,” he said. “Your father has been worried sick about you.” Bryn reached up and brushed some of her bangs out of the way. “Hell, Ludvik is beginning to drive me crazy as well. We all miss you.”

“They don’t think ill of me?” she asked, worrying her bottom lip. “After the way I left here?”

“Lass, if they have a problem with you, you can stay at Honeyside with me. I’ll get you all to myself and drink together till we pass out. That will teach ‘em.”

Pala nodded, feeling reassured.

“I should leave you to your job,” she said, glancing around and seeing a few hangers-on milling about. “And,” she said, noting the lightness of her back, “give me back my coin purse.”

Bryn blushed, placing her the small leather pouch in the palm of her open hand. 

“Better luck next time,” she smiled.

“Lass,” he said, reaching out and grabbing her arm to stop  
her from walking off. 

After years of training, Pala flinched, fighting the habit of flipping the attacker and drawing her dagger from her hidden chest sheath.

“You are cleared to use the back entrance.”

“Thanks, Bryn,” she smiled, looking over her shoulder. 

She saw him pull a leather cord free of his chest and Pala reached out to catch the talisman he tossed her. 

After her last warning to the members, Pala knew that the guild now changed locks every few months, to keep out non-members, and was glad that Bryn was allowing her use of his key. It proved to her that Paarthurnax was right, there were people here worth continuing to fight for.

Walking into the Ragged Flagon a few moments later, Pala was surprised to see her father sitting with Tonila and Vex playing a loud game of Swords and Shields. He tended to sit at a table on his own whenever she’d visited in the past.

In the middle of the table rested a pot of nearly two hundred septims, if she’d guessed correctly.

She walked over to the table, as silently as she could, then dropped a hand on Delvin’s shoulder.

“I’d be careful of your wagers. Vex is just going to fleece you,” she said.

Delvin nearly jumped out of his seat, though the two women merely stood, greeting her with grins.

“Good to see you alive, Pala,” Vex said. 

Pala started, last she knew the Thieves Guild believed her to be Katarina, Delvin’s long-lost daughter.

She frowned, turning to look at the man hiding his face beside her.

“I told the inner circle the truth,” he admitted after a moment’s pause. “I could not lie to them when they asked me.”

Her heart dropped, all of that work to protect them, and her father had betrayed her to his friends. 

She couldn’t stay mad as she looked at the guild members around the table, these people were his family; they deserved the truth. But knowing that any of them could soon spill the secret to the wrong person and the Brotherhood would track her down worried her greatly.

“I lied to protect the Guild,” she said, knowing there was little more she could do in this situation.

“And we protect our own,” Vex replied, though kinder than Pala had expected.

“Even if your face is different.”

Pala cringed.

“I’ve been thinking about that actually,” she said, after a moment. “Maybe I should get it changed back. Now that the Dovahkiin’s duties are completed.”

“No can do, buttercup,” Tonila said. “Our face sculptor has moved on.”

“Then Imperial I will stay,” she said with a shrug, noticing Delvin climbing out of his seat. She hadn’t been ready to change yet anyway, the fear of being hunted was enough to make her second guess her old face.

“I fold,” he said to the women. “I have a daughter to welcome back.”

Pala smiled and hugged her father. Warmth spread through her body at the thought. The two of them hadn’t really talked about the change in their relationship now that she knew the truth, but Pala hadn’t thought it would matter, with her name on Aldiun’s list. 

Besides, she thought, Del had always looked out for her, now was nothing different.

Later that evening, Pala found herself lounging in the cistern with Tonila and Vex, who were 

trading war stories about their active years in the guild. She wished she’d been able to spend more time with them during her visits to the guild, these were the sisters that the Brotherhood had been missing. Astrid and her hatred of change had prevented any sort of true bonding between the members.

Maybe those bonds could have saved the Brotherhood against Astrid’s treachery. Maybe then her friends would still be alive. 

The room grew quiet suddenly and Pala felt a frisson of fear race down into her gut when she turned to see Ludvik standing just behind her.

“You’ve returned,” he said, a muscle in his jaw twitching. 

Searching his eyes, Pala realized that the truth must have hurt him more than anyone else in the room. She’d completely forgotten about her deception to the man that had once saved her life. He had deserved more than that and she wished she could take back how she’d handled her departure. Ludvik had wanted to throw her a party, instead Pala had slipped away in the dead of night.

She grimaced, swallowing back the lump in her throat, and avoided his gaze.

“I suppose that I have some explanations to give,” she said, hearing the two women slink away from their guild master.

“It would be nice to know why you lied to me.”

Her stomach twisted at the pain in his voice.

“I had to hear the truth in a letter from the Harbinger,” his graveled voice said, cutting through the silence. “Not even Delvin had told us the truth by that point.”

Her mouth went dry.

“To know you lived under my roof for a week and never mentioned who you really were--”

Her stomach clenched tightly as he trailed off.

“Why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t feel like I had a choice,” she said, finally finding her voice. “I knew what the fate of the Last Dragonborn was supposed to be. What would it have helped at all for you to learn who I was only to hear of my death?”

Gathering her courage, Pala looked up at the guild master.

“What good would it have done for me to reveal myself to you? A week of exploration before I stole away and disappeared again? Possibly forever? That wouldn’t have been fair for either of us.”

“So, you did feel something for me?” he asked, surprising her.

“Of course I do,” she admitted. “But before I completed what fate had decided for me, I couldn’t even think about starting something with you.”

“And now,” he asked. She noticed that his hands were shaking as he squeezed them into tight balls at his side.

“I guess that’s up to you, Ludvik,” she said. “I should have told you the truth. But I thought it would be better to protect myself if fewer people knew the truth. The Dark Brotherhood is after me. Would you not err on the side of caution with that hanging over your shoulders?”

“I kept your secret from everyone,” he said. “I had my men lie to their Jarl in order to protect you. What makes you think I’d have changed my opinion just because you were Delvin’s daughter?”

Pala paused, she hadn’t thought about that.

“I am sorry,” she said, feeling guilt settle in her heart. “If you wish me to leave, I will do so. Just allow me to say goodbye to my father.”

A growl rumbled low in his chest as she stood to leave. All she wanted was to live free of the chains that had always bound her and to stop hurting the people she loved.

“Insufferable woman,” he muttered and Pala found her back pressed against the brick wall and Ludvik’s lips pressed against hers.

Without thought, she parted her lips and his tongue brushed against her teeth, urging her for more permission.

It had been years since she’d kissed anyone, much less someone who’d set her blood on fire like Ludvik’s gazes had all those months ago.

His hands skimmed down her arms and over her hips as he pressed himself close. Like a flash of light, Pala’s mind kicked in gear and she reached out to run her hands over his back when he pulled away.

Unable to stop herself, Pala practically panted as Ludvik rested his forehead against hers. 

“Don’t you dare leave again,” he said. 

Before she could reply, he was gone, disappeared, and Pala was left wondering what in Oblivion they were doing.

She slouched back into her seat a moment later and heard a gaggle of thieves coming up from the cistern. They must have been what caused Ludvik to disappear. She was sure that after nearly two years without stealth training, her ears had lost their touch.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies dear readers. I had expected to post a chapter last month, but RL got in the way. Hopefully it won't get in the way this month and I can post a second chapter later.   
> Please enjoy!

The next few weeks passed quickly as Pala struggled to find a place within the walls of the Thieves Guild. 

Many of the members treated her as if she had taken their oath, living in Delvin’s house but spending much of her day in the Flagon. There were a few, Vipir and Thrynn in particular, that didn’t particularly care for her presence; but it was clear that the Nightingales had taken on the Dovahkiin as someone that they would protect and the Thieves Guild was nothing if not honor bound by their codes.

The fact that no one seemed to be pushing her toward any specific destiny was a welcome relief. Not having to answer to the Greybeards or Astrid was relaxing in a way; but Pala knew that she’d have to eventually deal with the growing tensions that were rising in Skyrim. 

With the cease fire now over, war was spreading throughout the province and everyday news arrived of the battles moving closer to the Rift’s borders. It was inevitable that someone would start a battle in the Imperial friendly town and the guild would finally be forced to choose a side. It was almost guaranteed that Ulfric and Tullius would insist on the Dovahkiin taking part in the battles, and would force her to publicly endorse one side or the other. 

Pala did not look forward to it.

Until that time, the guild seemed blissfully ignorant of the world outside their underground bunker, aside from the duties and jobs that drove them out of the Flagon and into the province. Pala began taking on odd duties for the older members of the guild in order to keep busy, further enhancing the sentiment that she was a member-in-training. Sometimes she’d clean houses and other times she’d just sit in Bryn’s home and listen to him and Karliah trade war stories like someone traded money during a card game.

Walking through the streets of Riften one evening, as the sky burnt orange with the sunset, Pala heard kids laughing In a yard nearby. Glancing at the front door of the building, Pala realized that she’d been walking toward the Orphanage. She hadn’t thought about this place in years, not since she’d answered the Ritual for Aventis Arentino and killed the wretched old hag who’d owned the place. 

From the sounds of the screams and laughter, it seemed that the children were faring well under the new management. She couldn’t help being drawn to the fence and took a moment to watch the children running around.

“Interested in adopting?” Constance Michel said, striding up to her.

Pala recognized the woman immediately, though she doubted Constance would remember her.

“I am not in a place to adopt right now,” she admitted. “But I wouldn’t mind helping out in the Orphanage.”

“I have no positions available,” the woman replied, looking nervous.

“Strictly volunteer,” Pala said, waving her hand to stop the woman’s protestations. “I find myself with extra time these days. Perhaps I can come over and read to the children or help with some of the chores a few times a week.”

“You can read?” the orphanage owner asked.

Pala nodded. There were few people who were literate outside of the college and the Bard’s school. She’d been lucky to have a mother that knew her letters and numbers.

“I had hoped to teach some of the smarter ones,” Constance admitted. “But there’s just not enough time.”

“I’m not well versed in writing,” Pala admitted. “But working with the children will certainly bring some of it back.”

The woman nodded, seeming to understand her meaning.

“I’ll take any help you wish to offer,” she smiled.

Pala grinned and wished the woman a good night, promising to come by again in a few days to help out. 

Arriving at Del’s house for the night, Pala stepped out of her shoes and shrugged off her armor in favor of wrapping up with a quilt and sitting in front of the hearth. Del should be back later tonight, he’d said something about a guild meeting, so she was on her own for dinner and possibly even going to bed before he returned.

After lighting a fire in the hearth, she went up to the guest room and changed into a clean tunic that went to her knees and grabbed the blanket on the bed. When the skillet was warm a few moments later, she sliced up a few slices of the day old bread they had left over and toasted them with a little lard in the skillet before dunking it in some wine and taking some of the sharp cheese he had and melted it on the toasted bread. A simple dinner but fine enough for the Dovahkiin. She ate the bread and cheese while it was still hot, the wine giving the bread a fruity taste, then took the skillet to the water pump and cleaned up the lard.

With the blanket around her shoulders, Pala settled into a cushioned chaise and watched the fire, losing herself in her memories.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” 

Ludvik’s voice cut through her thoughts and Pala nearly jumped from the seat before she recognized him.

Glancing over, she saw the guild master leaning back against the table near the door. How he’d managed to sneak in without her noticing only proved how far away her thoughts had taken her. She still could see Sovngarde, clear as day, in her mind, fighting alongisde the heroes of Tamriel and wondering if she’d survive the battle.

“Ludvik,” she acknowledged, with a nod. “I thought there was a guild meeting tonight.”

“It’s turned into a drinking party,” he replied, smirking in her direction. “You’re welcome to join the others,” he said.

“I’m good here.” Pala settled into the chair, shrugging the blanket up tighter around her shoulders. “What brings you by?”

“Your father suggested I bring you back with me,” he said. “You know that you’re welcome at our meetings, right?”

“I didn’t want to intrude. A quiet night alone is all I needed tonight.”

“Ahh, I’ll leave you to it,” he said, eyeing the door and straightening his shoulders.

A battle warred in her chest as he began to make his way to the door.

“You’re welcome to stay,” she blurted out. “Though I can’t promise I’ll be better company than Sapphire and Thyrnn.”

“Pala,” he said, sounding uncertain.

Pala turned and looked at him as Ludvik paused. He seemed to reconsider his thoughts but continued eventually.

“I won’t keep you up too long.” 

Ludvik wore a grin as he closed the distance across the room and took a seat on the other side of the hearth.

“You looked very deep in thought when I came in,” he said, breaking the silence.

“There’s a lot to think about,” she said. 

“Anything you wish to share?” he probed.

“Just reliving the battle.” Pala stared into the blaze again, mentally berating herself for the recrimination in her voice. 

“With Aldiun?”

She nodded, Ludvik had an uncanny ability to know what was bothering her.

“Would you like to talk about it?” he asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

“I thought I was prepared to fight the world destroyer, and I was; but setting foot in Sovngarde…” she trailed off. 

“What was it like?” 

“Unexpected.”

“In a bad way?”

She shifted in her seat, trying to find the right words for what she wanted to say. Then looked carefully at Ludvik.

The truth wasn’t as enchanting as she thought it would be, Pala didn’t want to disillusion this man about the afterlife.

“No,” she said finally, settling on what to say. “It’s everything a true Nord would want. Mead flows freely, like a waterfall, and men and women dance and feast.”

“But…”

“Perhaps I’m not a true Nord,” she shrugged.

“My soul belongs to Nocturnal,” Ludvik said, his eyes staring at the stone floor. “I gave her my afterlife freely, in order to stop the atrocities that Mercer was committing against the guild and Skyrim. I will never see Sovngarde, not unless Nocturnal decides to recycle my soul in the Dreamsleeve.”

She smirked at him.

“Sovngarde is like being down in the Flagon, but for the rest of Eternity. It might be nice for the first hundred years, but what then?”

She paused to attempt a reading of Ludvik’s brown eyes when he’d looked up at her.

After a breath, she continued.

“I had pictured some strange new world with animals Tamriel couldn’t even begin to imagine. That we’d have access to places we’d never dreamed of. Instead, Sovngarde is like going to Jorrvaskr and taking part in a festival for the rest of eternity.”

She shrugged.

“Again, perhaps I’m not the truest of Nords then.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. You are Dragonborn,” he said. “Perhaps they go to another plane.”

She shook her head. 

“Perhaps,” she glanced up at him. “But the Greybeards were there too. Even Olaf One-Eye helped me kill Aldiun.”

“But were any of them truly Dragonborn?”

“Not,” she started, thinking back on the rest of the people she’d seen. “Not that I know of.”

“Then see?” he smiled. “Perhaps you’ll go to a special plane just for Dragonborn. Where you can fly around until your heart’s content.”

“And if that’s true, do you think I’ll find Aldiun there too?” she asked, suddenly fearful.

“I couldn’t answer that,” he said, with a sad smile. “But with all the other Dragonborn, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble kicking Aldiun out of there either.”

His grin brightened as Pala realized he was teasing her.

“Thanks, Ludvik,” she said, biting back a sigh. His intention of making her feel better was clear, but she knew everything he said was merely conjecture. No one really knew what the afterlife was like. And even she, who’d actually stepped foot in Sovngarde and returned, didn’t know for certain that the Hall was everything she’d seen. Where had all the other good and loyal Nords been? It was fairly reasonable to expect a larger number of Nords in their heavenly plane, surely they hadn’t all made deals with Daedric princes.


	22. Chapter 22

Winter passed quietly, Pala settling into a routine rather quickly after that awkward moment between herself and the guild master. She worked hard to avoid the visiting the Cistern, feeling incredibly guilty. Though she wanted something special with Ludvik, a man she’d come to feel strongly about, Pala couldn’t shake the thought that the moment she allowed it to happen, something bad would occur. 

Her life had been one disaster after the other and Pala knew at some point that the other shoe would drop. She couldn’t believe that everything would be sunshine and butterflies now that her duties as Dovahkiin had finished. Something niggled at the back of her mind, and left her on edge.

Walking over the bridge near the market place, Pala reached into her pocket for the key to Ludvik’s place. She’d spent most of the day helping Constance with the kids at the orphanage and was going to spend the afternoon organizing Luvik’s office area before finishing the night in Vex’s home. It was well known throughout the guild that Vex was a pack rat and Pala had offered to help her clean out the small two bedroom home.

Pala unlocked the front door to Riftweald Manor and stepped inside. 

Immediately, the hair on the back of her exposed neck bristled, her hair tied up in a knot, and a dark scent settled around her. Pine needles and blood, familiar in the wind; but Pala couldn’t quite remember who wore such a scent. 

It was not something she’d smelled in years, definitely not Ludvik’s now familiar scent nor definitely any members of the Guild.

There was trouble to be had in the manor, and she was ready for it..

Allowing the door to close but not latch shut, lest the noise alert her new companion, Pala made certain that it would slip open when someone pressed against it. She wanted to give enough of a warning to Ludvik or another guild member that not everything was alright in their Guild Master’s home.

She reached for the blade that she kept at her hip and silently cursed herself for leaving it at Del’s, wanting to clean the weapon tonight before bed. Pala still had her hidden stilettos, but hadn’t worn her holsters to the orphanage. The kids were incredibly curious, and handling a poison tipped blade was not on the list of things the children should be doing. 

Walking, trying to act as normally as possible, she headed for the kitchen area where Ludvik kept a few weapons for caution’s sake. Lighting a lamp, Pala saw that both daggers on the wall plaque were gone. The house had been swept, this was a professional attack.

Inwardly she cursed. There was a small chance that the person, whomever it was, didn’t know she was in the house yet. That was when she remembered that the inner circle of the guild kept a few weapons hidden in the stone walls of their cellars. 

Grabbing the lamp, for both lighting and the protection that the heavy base could offer, she made her way down the stairs and into the underground rooms. 

Rounding the corner when she reached the end of the stairs, Pala felt an arm pull her back and a cloth placed over her nose.

Poisoned, she thought, just before the world went even darker around her.

Pala didn’t know how much time had passed since she’d been knocked unconscious when she woke to the scent of smelling salts being wafted across her nose.

Immediately she stiffened, and realized that she’d been tied down into a chair.

A couple torches were lit in the room and Pala recognized Ludvik’s cellar. Whoever this was, Pala knew they were confident in their ability to not get caught. He, a member of the Dark Brotherhood surely, must have known that the owner wouldn’t be home for hours if he planned on interrogating or torturing her. 

Pala looked around but could see nothing out of the ordinary about the cellar. Weapons were placed back into their cases and even the alchemy table was in perfect shape, the herbs and vials all neatly aligned according to Ludvik’s very particular instructions.. 

Had whoever this was already killed the guild members?

Panic began to filter in, but Pala knew that it wouldn’t help. She twisted her wrists in the bindings and realized that the intruder had taken off the band around her arm that sheathed a hidden blade.

Now she knew for certain it was the Brotherhood.

Not only had the man known about the blade, but she’d also been stripped of her hairpin that could double as a weapon, her hair falling in soft curls around her face.

When a frighteningly familiar voice echoed off the cellar walls, Pala knew she might not leave the room alive.

“You’ve become complacent since you left the safety of the Brotherhood, Listener,” Nazir spat from his hidden corner. “I’ve never been able to get the jump on you before.”

“I was kicked out of our home by Sithis,” she retorted. “You know that.”

“No,” Nazir said, cutting her off. “You denounced the protection of Sithis, sided with the Imperials, and made off with money that was rightfully ours. As long as we complete one extra task for his partner.”

“What are you talking about?” she said, unsure what all he knew and what the Night Mother had promised.

“The Night Mother is very upset that you deliberately ignored your contract,” he said. “We know the Emperor still lives, but she will forgive the Brotherhood.”

Fear trembled through her body, knowing that Nazir had more than just confession on his mind.

“If I kill you, the contract is fulfilled and Sithis will grant us the riches we were promised when the Night Mother sent you to answer Mortierre’s ritual.”

“That’s what this is all about?” she laughed. “The money?”

“No,” he said, suddenly stepping out into the light and slapping her across the cheek in anger. “This is about the reputation of the Brotherhood, something you sullied when you allowed that weak old man to walk out of his ship alive.”

“So, you tracked me down to kill me then,” she said, her eyes darting around the room, hoping to find something that would save her. 

“Cicero’s little sleight of hand didn’t even cause the Night Mother to pause,” he grinned. Nazir disappeared behind her. “There are bigger plans at work.”

Fear ripped through her at Cicero’s name. Was it possible that Nazir had done away with her brother like he planned on doing to her? Cicero had been a great friend to Pala and she hated the thought that he too was dead.

“You came to kill me,” she said, afraid to hear him say that he’d murdered Cicero. “How do you plan on doing it then?” 

Nazir had always been incredibly boastful when it came to executing an assassination, Pala hoped to get him talking, that this delay would hopefully be enough time for any guild member to come in and distract Nazir to the point where she could get to his blades and finally deal with the problem.

“I’m going to enjoy taking your life,” he whispered into her ear.

She only just managed to keep herself from jumping when his lips passed over the curve of her ear. His touch, combined with the smell of him, caused her stomach to twist. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her come unhinged. 

Pala looked forward in an attempt to ignore his ministrations. Now that Nazir’s scent pervaded around her, Pala cursed that she hadn’t realized it before. How could she have forgotten the traitorous man’s smell?

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said, refusing to turn in the direction she’d last sensed him in.

“There are many ways that I could dispose of you,” he said, flippantly. “I had thought to drain you slowly of blood, so you could watch your life force seep into the dirt of the cellar, but that will take too long. Your man won’t leave you unguarded.”

She frowned at Nazir’s terminology, but kept silent. 

“But quick wouldn’t do well either. You should pay for your transgressions before Sithis takes your soul to Oblivion.”

The first mode of death that he’d mentioned hadn’t startled her. It had been one of his favorite ways of killing his marks, at least in the old days when they had still been brethren.

She wanted to laugh, didn’t Nazir know that Sithis didn’t reside in oblivion. Pala stifled her thoughts and closed her eyes for a moment. 

That’s when she realized what he was up to. Pala wanted to ask her question again, to call him out on the fact that he couldn’t pick a way to kill her. It was like he was stalling, his mind envisioning the best way to kill her and unable to decide.

Instead, she kept her mouth shut. His hysteria would soon end and he’d realize what she was doing. 

The ropes around her legs and arms were tied well, and she couldn’t get them loose without her blades. She was running out of time.

Though he’d tied her legs to the chair, Pala could feel the very edge of the floor with the toe of her boots. Slowly a plan began to form in her mind. Just keep him talking, she told herself, get him to walk behind her again. The moment she needed would be fleeting, but a well placed swing of the heavy chair could at least knock him over. And that would be enough time for her to get the upper hand, tied down or not.

“And Babette?” she asked, missing her vampiric sister.

Pala could sense his grin through the dark as he made the mistake of turning his back on her. Not exactly how she’d planned, but it was what she needed. Pala leaned forward, got her bearings, and spun around quickly, swiping the heavy wooden chair legs toward Nazir before he had the chance to react. Nazir tumbled backwards as the chair collided with his form and she jumped a few times toward the table to reach out for the knives Nazir had laid out in preparation for his work. 

Before he could reach her, Pala had sliced through the ropes around her arms and bent down to cut through the ropes around one leg. A moment of pride swept through her mind at how sharp he kept his blades. Nazir was a fool.

“You Nordic Bitch,” Nazir growled out, gripping her freed wrist and twisting it to near its breaking point.

He shoved her toward the wall, but not before Pala grabbed another blade from the table. The chair caught in the dirt beneath her feet and knocked them both over. 

She twisted free of his grip and found herself pinning the Redguard to the floor. He bucked, trying to swing her off of him. Instead, she dug her knees deeper into the dirt and slashed the dagger behind her, finally freeing herself completely from the rope. 

The sound of rope being sliced filled the air and Nazir bucked, trying to get free.

Her attention back on her captor, Pala brought the blade to his neck.

“Don’t’ move,” she growled out.

The sound of boots on wood caught her attention as footsteps pounded across the floor above them.

“Damned to Oblivion,” she cursed. The distraction of sound could be enough for Nazir to flip things to his side again.

She pressed the blade harder against the skin of his neck, not willing to give him a chance to get free.

Light appeared behind her.

“What is going on here?” 

Pala stiffened, hearing Bryn’s voice. If it wasn’t just Ludvik, who else had come to Riftweald Manor and what were they doing?

She didn’t want to kill in front of any of them, but she had little choice with Nazir finally within her grasp. Pala couldn’t allow herself to let the bane of her existence free to hunt her once again.

“Pala?”

“I’d wanted a little more time,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone.

“Give Sithis my best wishes,” Pala said to her once companion, continuing to ignore those on the stairs.

His eyes went wide in fear and Pala drew the blade across his neck. Blood gurgled from the wound as the light behind his eyes faded out. He wouldn’t die, truly, for a few minutes, but the unconscious hug of death would surely not let go now.

“I’m sorry,” she said, standing up and moving away from the body as it twitched. “I had a job to finish.”

Pala looked up at the guild members, doing her best not to react when she connected eyes with Ludvik, though she could see Bryn behind him.

“I’m not sure what to say,” Ludvik’s normal rumble was tight.

“He was another Brotherhood member,” she replied, with a shrug. “Sent to kill me. He should be the last.” 

Pala couldn’t bring herself to look at either man as warmth began to soak into her simple shoes.


	23. Chapter 23

Two months passed without another word from the Brotherhood. No one came to check on their missing leader and no one came to finish out the supposed contract. It was enough to make Pala a bit nervous. The silence may have been common for the old Brotherhood, but all it did was succeed in making Pala jumpy.  
   
After cleaning up the body and replacing the blood stained dirt in Ludvik’s cellar, Pala had avoided the man like she’d been plagued. The guilt she felt at murdering someone in his home haunted her. She should have moved on, should have found another place to call home, but Delvin insisted she stay with him rather than allowing her to run away. And it had led to her murdering someone in the guild master’s home.  
   
Pala found herself pulling away from those she’d begun to consider family. She no longer helped keep their houses clean and she stopped volunteering at the Orphanage just in case the brotherhood tracked her to the children and killed them all in revenge.  
   
 At this point, she thought with a sigh, she was lucky to find the will to leave the house every few days. Pala knew that the others were worried about her, daily someone would knock on the door with a basket or vial of something and she refused to answer the door. When Delvin did come home, she locked herself in the basement until she heard her father leave.  
   
She was surprised to see that the Inner Circle didn’t just break in and force the issue.  
   
All her time, it seemed, was spent on planning escape routes out of Riften, should the Brotherhood return. She spent weeks bartering for and purchasing necessary provisions and placing caches in the surrounding forests for the inevitable day that she’d need to run.  
   
When she felt up to it, Pala would test the timing herself to figure out how long it would take her to get to one of the caches from various escape routes within the city and leave, going north or south or even toward the coast. She memorized the land just outside the Riften gates and would borrow maps from the Jarl in order to create as many possible escape plans as she could.  
   
Even she could see that her search for an escape route was becoming an obsession, but with Delvin’s refusal to let her go and her refusal to ask for help from the guild, Pala was preparing for the inevitable.  
   
One of these days, Pala knew that someone else would come for her. It was likely that Sithis had something grand planned for her in the afterlife and Pala was not looking forward to whatever torture the Daedric prince might be planning.  
   
Rolling up the latest map she’d borrowed from the Jarl, Pala knew she needed to return it to Mistveil Keep soon. She’d had the map for a week and the Jarl’s steward was likely to send a runner out to request its return.  
   
She stepped out of the house, the late afternoon sun just beginning to dip below the roof line of the city and tried to stay in the shadows, pulling her hood up over her head not wanting to draw anyone’s attention. Without being able to stop herself, Pala glanced over at Bryn’s stall and saw him staring at her.  
   
His brow furrowed as he took a step forward, then he stopped, reading something in her features he didn’t seem to like and stepped back to his stall.  
   
The ache in her heart burned, but she knew it would be a mistake to cross over and say hello.  
   
Without even a nod in his direction, she continued along the path toward her destination.  
   
Returning the map had been a simple affair, though she did stop to speak to Wyladriah, the Jarl’s court wizard. She stopped at the woman’s workshop just off the main hall partially because she liked the flighty woman and partially because she wasn’t quite ready to face Brynjolf in the market square again. She hoped that by the time she left that the stores would be closed for the night, she only hoped that the feeling that the skilled thief would be lurking in the shadows waiting for an ambush was false.  
   
When she finally begged leave from the wizard and left the Keep Pala was glad to see that the sun had set and the market was clear. Delvin had mentioned a late evening job, and she didn’t expect him to come home any time soon.  
   
A familiar feeling of being watched washed over Pala. Trying not to draw attention to it, Pala rested her hands on the hilts of her blades. Since the attack from Nazir, she never left the house without protection and she trusted her instinct to tell her when something was wrong.  
   
An elderly man in a courier outfit, complete with threadbare boots and a tagged tunic, came walking up to her, startling Pala with his casual stride.  
   
“A message for you,” he said, looking through his pouch to find the parchment. After a few moments, he found what he was looking for and waited for his payment. Pala handed him a couple septims and watched him walk away before she looked around.  
   
Even though she saw no one, Pala could still sense that someone was keeping a watchful eye on her.  
   
I’m in town, the message said. We need to talk.  
   
Though it had been years since she’d seen the scrawling handwriting of the ageless vampire, Pala knew instantly that it was Babette’s eyes that she felt leaving heat along her back.  
   
She glanced down at the rest of the note.  
   
Bee and Barb at mid-night.  
   
Pala ripped the parchment into shreds and dropped it into her coin purse before continuing along her intended path. She unlocked Delvin’s home easily, though she kept an eye out for any traps that might have been installed.  
   
The familiar feeling of rising stamina pumped through her veins.  
   
For months, Pala had been preparing for such an event, though a note from her sister had been unexpected, Pala quickly entered the home. Once within the safety of the house, Pala raced to her sleeping quarters and pulled out the parchments that she’d hidden behind a loose brick.  
   
On them were notes to Delvin and Ludvik, mostly containing good wishes and tearful goodbyes knowing she might not return. She’d even written a note to Bryn, letting the men in her life know how much they meant to her. She didn’t think Babette would kill her, but it was possible that she’d need to run and she would not return only to bring the Thalmor or the Dark Brotherhood down on those she cared about.  
   
Tossing the shredded message from Babette into the fire, she then grabbed a hide pack and the few items she owned. A few clean tunics and smalls along with an extra set of leathers, if her normal armor became ripped from travel or fighting. Pala lost herself in her preparations, moving from nervous to determined as she prepared for the possible faceoff against her once-sister. She’d already had to fight Cicero and Nazir and the retinue of brotherhood members, not to mention her many battles against the dragons. As beloved as Babette was to Pala, she would not allow the vampiress to kill her without a fight; though she truly hoped that wouldn’t be the reason for her appearance.  
   
It was then that she remembered Odahviing’s promise. If she really needed him, she could shout for his help. But Pala promised herself that such actions would only be used as a last resort, should she be attacked and facing impossible odds. Until then, she’d hide that little memory away and try to continue on as normally as possible.  
   
When the time came for her to finally meet up with Babette, a few hours later, Pala tucked the master map, on which the locations of her caches were marked, and made sure that the fire in the hearth was banked, ready to be lit later. She locked the door behind her securing the building for her father. She climbed up to the roof of the house and hid her bag among the thatch. If she needed it, she could jump up on the roof and get the pack and distribute the letters before the guards even saw her.  
   
Dressed semi-casually in a pair of trousers and a leather jerkin, checking to ensure her blades were in place, Pala walked into the tavern just before the bells at the temple of Mara signified the mid-night hour.  
   
Sweeping her eyes through the brightly lit chamber of the tavern, she immediately found the dark corner that her friend would most likely be sitting in. She dropped a few septims on the bar and took a mug of mead from the Argnonian innkeeper and made her way over. It wasn’t until she sat down that Babette released her illusion spell and shimmered into existence.  
   
“I’ve missed you,” the ageless child said. “You have no idea how terribly.”  
   
Pala took a moment to look at Babette. She was shocked to see how thin the girl was, knowing that her immortality should have kept her healthy.  
   
“I’ve missed you too, dearest sister,” Pala said, leaning her elbows onto the table.  
   
The space between them was quiet for a few beats.  
   
“The message you sent was incredibly cryptic.”  
   
“Skyrim is not quite as safe as it might appear.”  
   
It was then that Babette fully let her spell drop and Pala saw the burn marks across the young girlish face.  
   
“By the Nines,” Pala gasped. The skin on her friend’s cheek had bubbled and blistered.  
   
She looked around the tavern in the hopes that no one glanced in her direction in the wake of her shocked reaction at seeing Babette.  
   
“What happened?”  
   
“It seems that Nazir had his own backup plans in place in case he disappeared.”  
   
Recognizing the look of confirmation in her sister’s eye, Pala knew that the vampire-child was aware of Nazir’s demise. And that the Dark Brotherhood was in shambles.  
   
Fear gripped her stomach and twisted.  
   
“We were betrayed to the Thalmor,” Babette whispered, leaning over the edge of the table. “They cleared out every last one of our members at the sanctuary. The branch in Skyrim is finished.”  
   
“Cicero?” Pala asked.  
   
“Out on a contract, thank the Divines.”  
   
“And Mother?”  
   
“Safe enough for now,” she said. “But she’s travelling with the Keeper to a new home.”  
   
Pala nodded, silently saying her prayers to the Night Mother. Despite whatever happened during the fight for her soul, Pala wanted her former patron to stay safe.  
   
“And you?”  
   
“Come bearing a message for my sister.”  
   
Pala waited.  
   
“If they found us, they will find you too. It won’t be long before they attempt to subdue you or get rid of you for good. There were files we found in the Thalmor Embassy near Solitude,” Babette trailed off, looking over Pala’s shoulder.  
   
“We have a visitor,” she said, suddenly changing her tone and melding in with the shadows once more.  
   
Pala looked over her shoulder to see Bryn and Ludvik talking to the innkeeper but Ludvik was looking in her direction.  
   
“I will not allow harm to come to the guild,” she whispered to her invisible friend.  
   
“What do you suggest then?” the shadows replied.  
   
“Continue on to your new home,” Pala whispered. “I will find my own way out of Skyrim. Perhaps we will see each other again.”  
   
“And your father?” Babette asked.  
   
“I’ll say my goodbyes,” Pala said, shrugging off the concern she heard in Babette’s voice. Her heart squeezed at the thought of leaving him alone, but it was for the best. It was the only way she could guarantee his safety.  
   
“You’re here alone?” Bryn said, placing a weary hand on Pala’s shoulder.  
   
She turned around to look at the two men who’d followed her inside.  
   
They’d come by for more than just a drink, judging by the serious look on his companions’ faces.  
   
Bryn’s eyes looked carefully over at the other side of the table, as if he could see the shimmer of Babette’s spell.  
   
“I had an appointment,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t give away her thoughts.  
   
“At mid-night?” Ludvik asked, his concern evident.  
   
Pala sighed and closed her eyes.  
   
“Meet me at Honeyside,” she said. “There is much I need to say and too many ears.”  
   
She stood and brushed past the two men, heading out of the tavern without glancing back to see if they followed. If she wanted to keep her family safe, she needed to leave by sunrise to get as far ahead of the Thalmor as possible and Pala wasn’t entirely sure that her plan was going to work so she would need to explain the events and give Babette the chance to sneak out of Riften as well.  
   
Delvin was sitting by the hearth eating stew when she barged into the home, she’d gone on a quick scouting tour of the city while she waited for the men to get to her father’s house. She’d needed a few minutes to calm her racing thoughts and to figure out exactly what she was going to say. He nearly toppled the bowl to the floor when she barged inside, Bryn and Ludvik already within the building.  
   
“Sorry to scare you,” she said, grimacing at the older man.  
   
“Brynjolf was telling me that you had something to confess,” he said, tone dark.  
   
“It’s time for me to move on,” she said, feeling her eyes begin to water. She hadn’t wanted to say goodbye like this, but if the Thalmor really were actively searching for her, she didn’t want them harming any of the guild members.  
   
“The Thalmor are tracking me,” she said. “It won’t be long before they arrive in Riften. I will not risk the guild to save my neck.”  
   
“We won’t let them get near us,” Ludvik said.  
   
“They will bowl you over to get to me,” she retorted. “I suggest that you have all your belongings moved to the cistern and put the guild into lock down until they leave. It may be the only way you can protect yourselves.”  
   
Pala leaned against the nearby kitchen table.  
   
“It’s possible that they will attempt to burn Riften to the ground to find me. Perhaps, you should give them free reign of the Ratways. I’m not sure what would be better. If they realize I’ve moved on, perhaps then you will be safe.”  
   
“You’re not going anywhere,” Delvin said.  
   
“I’m doing this to protect all of you,” she said. Words failed her when she felt her chest ache at the thought of leaving them behind.  
   
“I will not see them harm you because of me,” she said, trying to sound as brave as she needed to be. “Do not let them take Riften. I will leave a trail that should be easy for their men to follow.”  
   
She looked at Ludvik, knowing he still had his position in the guard.  
   
“Warn your friends, recruit mercenaries for your protection, do whatever you need to stay safe. But I’m leaving tonight.”  
   
“Where will you go?” Bryn asked, his eyes darting over to Ludvik before returning to hers.  
   
“To tell you would bring your end,” she admitted.  
   
“The Thalmor will believe you told us anyway,” he countered.  
   
“I will not have you lie to protect me. I should have moved on long ago. It was stupid to think I’d find peace.”  
   
Pala saw Ludvik shift beside her, and caught his hand clenching into a fist.  
   
“You should not have to leave at all,” he said. “Fight them. Show the world that they cannot scare you away.”  
   
“Perhaps you are right,” she said, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps I should stay and allow them to take me. Perhaps I should sacrifice myself so that you all remain alive; but I do this so they will not concentrate on you. I do this so they will be so busy chasing me that they will not think to attack the Skyrim that I love.”  
   
“Pala,” Delvin started.  
   
“Father,” she interrupted, crossing the room and falling to her knees at his feet.  
   
“I love you,” she said, pressing a kiss on the back of his hand. “Take care of yourself, please.”  
   
“And Bryn,” she said, turning toward the red-headed nord. “Keep an eye on my old man?”  
   
“Anything for you, lass,” he said, wisely keeping his opinions to himself.  
   
Then she turned to Ludvik, pulling her master map out from behind her back, where she’d placed it earlier.  
   
“This map will lead you to stores of weapons and food and gems if the worst should happen and your guild must run. It will give you the funds to set the guild up somewhere new. To start over if the Thalmor destroy your home.”  
   
She paused, letting him take the parchment from her.  
   
“Keep it and yourself safe,” she said.  
   
Leaning into the space between them, she reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. He sighed and closed his eyes and she stepped up, placing a brief kiss on his lips, before pulling away before he could react.  
   
She reached out with her free hand and squeezed her father’s fingers one last time before walking out of the house without another word.  
   
Behind her, she could hear Ludvik protesting while Bryn stopped him from following her.  
   
At least Bryn seemed to understand what was at stake.  
   
She couldn’t stay, no matter how much she wanted to.  
   
Pala scaled the walls of the home and grabbed her bag before walking to the ledge and jumping over the wall that held the wilds at bay.  
   
The plan was to get to the mountains, leaving a trail for the Thalmor to follow, then call for Odahviing before the first light of day.  
   
Her heart broke further with each step she took leading her away from Riften, remembering the friends and family she was leaving behind.  
   
It seemed that her happiness would always be fleeting.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some text borrowed from Bethesda. Please don't sue!

Reaching the mountains later that morning, Pala found a clearing about half way up the path. Because it had been months since she last used a shout, she mentally prepared herself, not even entirely sure that it would work.  


“ODAHVIING”  


The shout echoed through the valley, with far more force than she’d expected as she called out for the dragon who’d promised to serve her.  


Her knees went weak and Pala staggered back.  


She would NOT get sick, Pala told herself.  


It took mere moments for the familiar sound of a dragon’s  wings flapping to fill the air.  


Looking up to the sky, Pala watched as the red dragon circled the mountainside.  


She stepped into the clearing, allowing the circling ancient to see her.  


He braced himself, flapping his wings almost like a duck landing in a pond, then dropped onto the snow.  


“You called for me, briinah?” he asked.  


“I need your help,” she said.  


“Some time ago I left the Throat of the World to be with family, but my enemies have hunted me down.”  


The dragon snorted in an almost angry huff.  


“Send me to kill them.”  


“There are too many,” she grimaced.  


“Not for the dovah to kill.”  


Pala sighed.  


“I do not wish to start a war,” she said.  


“What do you require of me, then?”  


“I need you to help me travel,” she said. “For the next few days, I want to be seen in all the Holds and then I intend on disappearing. I want the Thalmor to forget about RIften.”  


 “You think this is wise?” the dragon asked.  


“It’s the best idea I can come up with,” she admitted. “These antics, I hope, will lead them away from my family in Riften, and if I can do this, maybe they’ll finally leave me alone.”  
The dragon rumbled is dissent.  


“I never asked for this,” she grumbled back. “I never wanted to be a part of this political maneuvering.”  


“Do you regret what you did to Alduin?” he replied. “Perhaps now you wish that you had allowed the World-Eater to continue his path.”  


“No, I have no desire to see my land razed to the ground by that dov.”  


“And it has always been the job of the Dovahkiin to prevent that, from Aldiun or your mortal counterparts.  


“You will always be sought after, by those who wish your guidance and those who wish your death.”  


“So what do you suggest I do? Kill myself to stop being hunted?”  


Odahviing shouted at her angrily, a plume of fire spouting from his mouth.  


Pala stumbled back into the brush at the rage in his voice.  


“Dov do not give up,” he growled, “and neither will you, dear Briinah.”  


“Then what should I do?” she asked, unable to hide the desperation in her voice.  


“I will do as you ask, perhaps even bring in my dov zeymahhe,” Odahviing said. “Paarthurnax will undoubtedly want to help. You will spend the next few weeks finding a new place to live, outside of Skyrim. If you will not have us kill your enemies, you will not do yourself any favors by remaining here.”  


She nodded. Saying goodbye to Skyrim for possibly the rest of her life devastated her, but Pala knew it might be the only way to save the lives of the ones she called family, from Delvin and the thieves guild to Babette and Cicero.  


“I will bring you to the North Road,” he said after a silent moment. “From there you should travel on your own. The more people who see you, the more witnesses you have of your leave of Riften. I will remain nearby for your summons should you need to prove your might.”  


She nodded.  


“Spend some time in the fortressed city to the north, then call for me. By then my brothers and I will have a better plan.”“Thank you, zeymah,” she said.  
 

“Your dov brothers are your might, your legacy to command. Do not forget to call on us if you have need.”  


Pala was glad to have the support of at least one of the dragons, and knowing he was willing to bring others into the plan, reassured her that this was the right thing to do.  


She climbed on the back of the great dragon and held on tightly as he flew toward the road. Originally she’d wanted to use Odahviing to get to the northern city as quickly as possible, but he was right. The more rumors she could start about her appearance in settlements, the more trails that the Thalmor would have to follow before she disappeared from Skyrim completely.  


He dropped her off some time later near the settlement of Shor’s Stone.  


“Thank you, Odahviing,” she said, settling onto the ground.  


“We have an audience,” Odahviing said, voice rumbling with Dovahzul. “They will know you are Dovahkiin. Make sure you greet them as the hero you are.”  


She bowed her head in his direction before he took off into the skies once more, disappearing into the clouds that hung low in the mountains nearby.  


“Dragonborn!” a woman cried out as Pala turned to face the small settlement of people.  


“Hello, dear friends,”she returned, closing some of the distance between them.  


 “Talos’ blessings upon you, Dragonborn,” one of the male miner’s said, his pickaxe slung over his shoulder. “What brings you to Shor’s Stone?”  


“I apologize for my appearance,” she said, taking the humble route. “I fear I am being hunted by the Thalmor.  


The woman gasped.  


“I do not wish to bring you any trouble,” she said. “I am only passing through on my way from Whiterun to Windhelm.”  


The orc male that appeared at the woman’s side grumbled.  


Pala figured that her statement, part truth part falsehood, would help on two accounts. The first, that if these settlement dwellers were loyal to the Thalmor, they would lead the imperial hunters to Windhelm, and if they were not, they would spread the lie about her having been in Whiterun instead of Riften.  


“You look tired,” the dark-haired Nord said.  


“I have been traveling most of the night,” she replied. “It has been quite some time since I got any rest.”  
   


“But that dragon, you did not kill him?”  


“Now that Alduin is dead, they have new loyalties,” she said cryptically.  


“You can get some rest in my house,” the woman offered.  


“I’d appreciate a little rest,” she said, gratefully. “I do not want to endanger your people though.”  


“We can protect ourselves,” the orc replied. “Get some rest. One of us will wake you in a few hours so you can move on.”  


“I am grateful,” she said, smiling at the small group.  


Pala followed the woman into her small house and watched the woman to light a small fire in the hearth.  


“Do you think you’ll be near Darkwater Crossing any time soon?” she asked Pala, turing the large iron rod to place the stew pot over the flame.  


“I don’t know, why?”  


“My parents live there. I usually make the journey to bring them gifts and to just say hello, but I haven’t been well lately. I’ve written some letters and placed them in a satchel. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind delivering it to them on my behalf?”  


“I can’t guarantee that I’ll be at Darkwater before you are well enough to travel,” Pala said.  


“Please,” the woman begged. “There have been no visitor’s to or through Shor’s Stone for a month. My parents will be worried. It can even be on your way to Windhelm if you don’t mind a small detour, I would be grateful for your help.”  


“Very well,” Pala said, unable to turn down the woman’s pleas for aid.  


“Some coin,” the woman offered, dropping a handful of septims in Pala’s hand. “For your trouble. My father may even give you a little something himself. His name is Verner Rock-chucker. He works in the Goldenrock Mine.”  


Pala nodded and the woman thanked her once more before she left the house to return to her duties.  


Looking around the room, Pala spotted a small map on the table nearby and memorized the path to Darkwater Crossing. It would add a day onto her journey, but the extra sightings could help her even more.  


After a few moments, Pala took off her boots and climbed onto the straw mattress and fell asleep.  


Before she knew what was happening, there was a light knock on a wooden door, and Pala managed to open her eyes to see the Nord male walking slowly into the house.  


“Dragonborn?” he asked, unsure about breaking some sort of privacy for her. “It’s after the midday meal.”  


“Thank you,” she said, with a sigh, sitting up on the bed.  


“Did you sleep well?”  


“Not long enough,” she shrugged. “But yes, I slept fine.”  


“Sylgja has prepared a plate of food for you before you go, and Grogmar and I put together some rations for your trip.”  


“Your help is appreciated,” she said.  


“The Dragonborn saved all of Skyrim, why wouldn’t we thank her if we had the chance?” he asked.  


Pala smiled, and stepped into her boots, giving the man a chance to leave the small hut.  


It didn’t take long for Pala to pack the woman’s satchel in her pack and finish getting ready. Her stomach betrayed the hunger that had settled into her gut and she hoped that the meal Sylgja had prepared would fill her up.  


She walked for the rest of the afternoon, happy for the filling meal and the gear that the men and woman at Shor’s Stone had given her. The letter for Sylgja’s father burned in her pocket. Just after sundown, Pala entered the small settlement and found the old man, making sure he knew that she was the Dragonborn. It felt wrong, dirty even, to spread the word about her identity, but if it helped, then she needed to do it.  


Verner, when finding out who she was, even invited her over for dinner and offered her a place his loft to sleep for the night. Pala took him and his wife up on the offer, but made sure to let them know that she would have been happy to sleep under the stars.  


“Nonsense,” Annekke interjected, as she placed an extra bowl out on the table. “You’ve done us a favor by bringing word of Sylgja, the least we can do is offer you a warm place to sleep tonight.”  


After getting a full night of rest, something she’d sorely missed since the mishap in Riften, Pala thanked the older couple and moved on. She was sure that Annekke would spread the story to all her gossiping buddies that the Dragonborn had stayed at their house over night. Maybe it would even lead to them opening as a tavern and keeping that room for special guests.  


Pala couldn’t help but laugh at her own thoughts. Just like Nightgate Inn.  


Instead of walking around the hot springs of Eastmarch, Pala cut through the sulfurous land. Covering her face with a mask, to keep some of the stench away, Pala managed to shave a few hours of travel off of her trip. She knew Kynesgrove was just north of the hot springs and knew she could rest there for a day or two, allow her rumors and stories to go through the small settlement before she moved on. She had stayed at Braidwood Inn a couple times before or after assassinations, but this stop would be different. With her hood on her shoulders rather than covering her head, she walked into the Inn and asked for a room. After checking on the availability of the bath house in the back of the inn, Pala ordered a plate of deer roast and vegetables before settling in at one of the tables in the common room.  


It didn’t take long for Pala to reach Windhelm the next day. She knew that the dragons would be working on a plan but she didn’t know what she should do until she needed to contact them. Instead of staying in Windhelm, she made sure that people knew who she was and then purchased a ride up to Winterhold.  


Spending a few days in Winterhold, Pala reconnected with Archmage Korilina, and searched through many of the maps that they’d given her access to.  


The remainder of the week passed quickly and soon Pala found herself returning to Windhelm.  


The invitation to join Jarl Ulfric for dinner hadn’t been much of a surprise, though she’d hoped that it wouldn’t happen. The fact that he’d kept his guards on the lookout for her meant, at the very least, that the Thalmor hadn’t taken up residence in the fortressed city.  


Road weary, Pala allowed herself to be dragged up to the palace doors, but insisted that she be allowed to clean up before being presented to the Jarl. That and the fact that she was armed to the teeth would probably not be a good thing to let the Jarl be aware of while eating a meal at his table.  


Thankfully his guards allowed the Dovahkiin this small courtesy and brought her into a room in the more private quarters of the palace where a bucket of hot water and a towel was to be provided.  


When she was finally left alone, Pala quickly undid her hidden sheathes and stuffed the blades into her pack. She knew they’d probably go through her items and said a quick blessing for her foresight. She’d left the maps where they belonged, having chosen her new home back in the Archmage’s library.  


The other items in her bag would be of little concern to the Stormcloaks or Imperials, as everything of worth had been left in Riften with her father.  


It didn’t take long for the guards to return and usher her down the stairs and into the grand hall, where a few members of the Stormcloak infantry were already sitting at the table. She recognized the “unblooded” from her first clandestine trip into the palace nearly two years prior. It seemed he’d risen up well in the ranks of the rebellion, seeing how comfortable he was sitting at his hopeful-King’s table.  


Seated near the head of the table, she was given a position of honor but not THE most honored position. It made her want to laugh at the thought that Ulfric believed himself superior to even the Dovahkiin..  


Her grin turned to a smirk as she picked up her glass to drink. Glancing across the table, Pala caught the eye of the soldier and tipped her glass and head in his direction. He toasted toward her as well and drank deeply of his wine.  


A knock sounded and the room turned to see Jarl Ulfric entering the room.  


What a pompus prig, she thought, but stood with the rest of them as they revered their lord.  


“Thank you for coming,” he said haughtily as he walked to the table. “It is a joyous occasion when the Dragonborn has deigned herself worthy of eating a meal with some of Skyrim’s most important people.”  


She bit back a scoff. Pala had practically been abducted in order to participate in this meal, who the hell did Ulfric think he was.  


In the following moments as he continued to blow smoke up the collective rear-ends of the guests, Pala was glad that she never sided with this group. Far too egotistical to be of any service. But she needed to survive tonight before she called for her dragon brothers, and by Talos’s grace she would.  


The feast lasted well into the morning hours, Ulfric fawned over Pala like a man to an ale mug. She smiled politely and envisioned ways that she could kill him before his guards would realize it. Eventually Pala found herself spending far too much time in that imaginary world and shook herself free of it.  


“Care to tell me what brought that smile to your lips?” Larus, the once unblooded, said, taking a seat next to her.  


“No reason,” she said, returning his smirk. He might have been a stormcloak, but the man wasn’t nearly as annoying as the Jarl was.  


“Ah, but you lie,” he grinned.  


“It’s been a long night,” she admitted. “I believe the wine and ale is beginning to affect me.”  


“All the more reason for another drink,” he said, knocking the corner of her mug with his.  


“I appreciate the effort that was put forth for this meal,” she said, stifling a yawn just enough to be polite, but wanting them to know she was exhausted. “But I was on the road all day before arriving at the gates. Perhaps it is time for me to get a room in Candlehearth Hall.”  


“Nonsense,” Ulfric waved. “You’ll stay in the Palace.”  


Pala kept the grumble in her gut silent.  


“I wouldn’t want to be a burden to your household,” she said, giving the Jarl a quick glance.  


“The bedroom is already made up,” he said, ignoring her protestations.  


Pala got the distinct feeling that she was about to be held prisoner. Instead of fighting against it though, she decided to give the rebellious Jarl the benefit of doubt and went willingly.  


It wasn’t as if her days in Riften had been a complete loss. She could work a lock with the best of them, after lessons from Sapphire and Thrynn. Besides, one quick shout and she’d bring down Odahviing and Parrthurnax’s vengeance on him.  


“I beg my leave of you, Jarl Ulfric, I don’t believe I’ll be doing any good much longer tonight.”  


“Very well,” he sighed, a hint of anger in his voice. “Galmor, escort the Dragonborn to her room.”  


The old War General answered his Jarl’s orders and offered his elbow to escort Pala back to the living quarters of the palace. She was tempted to refuse his chivalry, but not knowing what would offend the Jarl who could tip the balance in Skyrim, Pala accepted and walked up the stairs with Galmor.  


The next morning, Pala found herself escorted down to the hall for a late breakfast.  


“You slept well, I presume,” Ulfric said, acknowledging her appearance.  


“Yes, thank you for your generosity,” she said, dipping her head in his direction. She wanted to gag, Pala was a person of subtleties and stealth, not pandering.  


Pala suppressed a shudder.  


Only a handful of the guests from last night’s banquet had appeared at the table and Pala hoped that the Jarl would let her go exploring this morning. The handful of items that were too important to her to leave behind were already on her body. She didn’t want to try to sneak her pack out. The pack would stay so that she simply disappeared from Windhelm and perhaps bring suspicion down on Ulfric.  


The meal was eaten in relative silence and Pala struggled to find a way to ask if she could leave.  


“I trust you have business to attend to in the city?” Larus asked as she moved some of her egg around on her plate.  


She nearly jumped with joy.  


“Yes, a few errands to take care of while I’m here.”  


“Perhaps you’d allow me to escort you on your adventure today?”  


Pala smiled at the man, she could see now what was going on. This fast climbing member of the Stormcloaks army was being sent as a spy with her to find out what she was doing in Windhelm. It would be easy enough to lose him in the back alleys of the Gray Quarter should she need to.  


“Of course.”  


An hour or so later, Pala felt the familiar compulsion of dragons nearby. They were waiting for her to call them. Though in the past that compulsion had meant fighting for her life, now, the tug at her heart filled Pala with elation that came with the fact that she at least had some support, no matter how twisted it was that she’d killed many of their old comrades.  


She led Larus to the market place near the White Phial. Knowing that at this time of the day, the market would be distracting; she went to a few of the booths and waited until Larus struck up a conversation with the Jarl’s smith before melding into the shadows. It would be stupid to head straight for the front gates, so instead, Pala backtracked through the alley, past the Hall of the Dead and into the noble quarter. She recognized these homes from her last trip into Windhelm and when she was sure she wasn’t being watched, Pala scaled the walls of a nearby home and hid on the roof.  


Not wanting to cause any disturbances, she waited for a few moments, wanting to see what would happen when Larus sounded the alarm.  


A shout sounded in the market place and she laid flat on the roof listening to orders being shouted out.  


“Find the Dragonborn,” a guard ordered from the path below. “Find her and bring her back to the Palace.”  


“Is this an arrest?” one of the underlings asked.  


“Escort her back to the safety of the Jarl’s quarters.”  


Pala nodded, it was an arrest.  


She waited until the guards scattered and the sound of footfalls disappeared. The wall of the fortress was a few paces away, but this high in the air, she wasn’t sure she could make the jump.  


Inwardly cursing, she then prepared herself for the whirlwind sprint shout that would fly her across the path. One small word wouldn’t do much, but more than that would certainly get the guards on her tail.  


“Wuld” she said, grimacing as she flew the ten or so feet across the open air, and landed with a crash in the rocky dirt just outside of Windhelm.  


Another battle cry arose in the city. It wouldn’t be long before the guards reached this area and she needed to run.  


Heat raced through her body as Pala climbed into the mountains just east of Windhelm. Until she got into an area with enough room for Odahviing to have clearance, she had to run.  


Behind her, branches were being broken as the guards found her trail. She didn’t have a lot of time.  


Slipping on some ice, Pala grunted, but picked herself up quickly. Ahead light pierced through the trees and she shouted.  


“Odahviing,” she shouted, scrambling up the rocks.  


The compulsion in her chest tightened as the dragons moved closer to her position. She turned to see a retinue of guards closing in on her position.  
Wings beat in the air.  


“Don’t attack,” she ordered the dragon, then turned back, shouting at the guards to stumble them.  


She quickly climbed onto the back of the red dragon and ordered him to get moving.  


The guards below were already preparing their weapons, knocking bows with arrows and letting them fly in her direction.  


Odahviing dipped in the air and twisted to avoid the arrows. Growling out when one of them pierced his wing.  


They took off into the clouds and headed west for a while before he landed on a snow-covered mountain some time later.  


“Nothing is ever easy with you, briinah,” he seemed to laugh.  


“Well, they certainly won’t doubt the Dovakhkiin’s existence now,” she grinned at him. “Are you badly hurt?”  


“Only a couple wounds,” Odahviing said, raising up his left wing for her to see an arrow sticking out of the side.  


“Let me get that out before the wound becomes infected.”  


He looked at her carefully.  


“Unless you plan on ripping it out yourself? Because I’m pretty sure it would to more harm to you than just letting me take care of it.”  


The old dragon grumbled, but moved closer to her.  


Pala smiled up at him and placed a hand just away from the wound, to hold his leathered hide in place. Moving the arrow a bit, to make sure it wasn’t imbedded too terribly; she wiggled it free of the muscle inside and took the arrow out of the dragon’s side.  


“See,” she smiled up at him. “Not so bad, right?”  


He grumbled but didn’t speak.  


“Where are we going to meet your brothers?” she asked, after a chuckle.  


“The Throat of the World,” he said.  


“But, the Greybeards?”  


“Will not bother us on the summit,” he continued.  


“If you’re sure,” she said, giving him a skeptical look. Though in hindsight, she laughed as she climbed back on his spine, it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t be able to read the look she gave him.  


As they took to the air, Pala gripped his scales tightly, huddling against the cold wind.  


It was just after nightfall when Odahviing landed on the summit of the tallest mountain in Skyrim. Already there were a few of the dragons lounging about. It was then that she smelled smoke in the air.  


“A fire has been built for you, Briinah,” Paarthurnax grumbled. “We know you little ones need more heat than us dov.”  


Pala smiled seeing the large bon fire, rather than a small fire pit flame, burning at the center of the clearing. The wood was clearly not stacked properly and would more than likely burn out within a few hours, but the sentiment was clear. They cared enough about her to want to keep her warm.  


“Thank you, zeymah,” she smiled, and walked over to the flames. “Do you have more wood to feed the fire later?”  


The embers would be hot until at least mid-night, but the smoldering ash wouldn’t last until morning, she guessed.  


“Krosulhah is bringing dead trees from the forests below. You should have enough fire,” Paarthrunax said.  
 

“Thank you.” Pala settled into the rocky bed that had been laid out for her to use. “You’ve done well preparing this space for me.”  


“Dovahkiin deserves to be comfortable,” Odahviing said.  


“So,” she said, looking at Odahviing. “I guess you’ve told them what’s going on?”  


“Briinah’s aversion of politics?” he said.  


“Yes,” she nodded.  


“They know.”  


“And?”  


“It is your decision, Dovahkiin,” one of the others said. “Your duty is complete. You need not do anything now.”  


“But you’re all disappointed?”  


“You will be safe any place outside of Skyrim,” Odahviing said. “But we will not be able to respond to your shouts should you travel too far.”  


Pala nodded.  


“That’s why I chose the place I did,” she said, looking up at the large dragon.  


“You will be close then?”  


 “No, the safest place I can think of is the Imperial City, in Cyrodiil.”  


“Lost your mind, have you, briinah?” Paarthrunax grumbled.  


“They will never think to look for the Dovahkiin in their own city,” she said. “It’s perfect.”  


“It’s dangerous.”  


“I’ve already said my goodbyes,” she sighed. “Either I openly fight the Thalmor or I find some way to disappear. Maybe I’ll even find a way into their headquarters or something.”  


Odahviing growled nearby.  


“I will not bring trouble to Skyrim. I cannot lead an army against the Thalmor. After everything I’ve done, I owe it to the Nords to keep trouble away. So, I will bring trouble to the Thalmor. I don’t see what the problem is.”  


”You still persist with the idea not to use your brothers?”  


“That would sooner lead to my death than the Thalmor extinction. I’m not your leader. I may be a former assassin, but I do not believe that I should exercise my ability to bend your will to mine.  I know you only tolerate me because I stopped Alduin’s return.”  


The dragons muttered to themselves.  


“Without me in Skyrim, you won’t have to worry about my powers affecting you. Though, I will not hesitate to come back if I am needed, should another World-eater arrive.”  


“There is not enough time in your life for another attack to occur.”  


“Don’t make me come back from Oblivion,” she grinned.  


“Don’t be foolish, briinah,” Odahviing said.  


She shrugged, dragons had no sense of humor.  


“Will you take me to Cyrodiil then?” she asked. “As a last duty to the Dovahkiin?”  


“Zu’u fent aam. I am at your command,” Odahviing replied, his neck bending in a show of reverence.  


“I’d prefer to arrive near the Imperial City after dark. No sense in worrying the locals about your appearance.”  


“We will leave accordingly then tomorrow afternoon.”  


“Thank you, zeymah,” she said.  


The dragons separated out around the camp fire and Pala tossed a few more logs in the flames. Her stomach growled, and Pala realized that she hadn’t eaten anything since the feast the night before. She could get food in the morning, she told herself, and settled in to sit by the fire.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone that's read this.
> 
> Here is the Epilogue.
> 
> I had originally planned on having this part as a sequel, but... I like this better. Plus, I wrote this nearly two years ago and want to show everyone how much better my writing is now :)

A year and more had passed from the time that Odahviing dropped her off in the fields just a couple hours north of the Imperial capital. Pala had spent a month living in the wilds, watching the traffic in and out of the city and waiting for an opportune time to enter the gates. Too soon and the guards might realize the truth of the dragon’s visit, too long and Pala might be tempted to return to Skyrim and the home she’d left behind. 

She missed everyone, but had found a life in Cyrodiil that kept her busy if not happy. Though she only lived in a shack in the poor district, Pala had needed to find a way to make money. The gift of money and jewels from the citizens of Whiterun was helpful and had kept her from starving a few times; but she only wanted to use their generosity if she needed it. 

Instead, she found a knack for carving and found herself with a stand at the market place where she sold her small keepsakes a few times a week. It didn’t bring in much money; but with the upkeep on her shack being about ten septims a month, she could handle it. The rent was far from the upkeep of Vlindrel Hall.

Summer was in full swing that morning, Last Seed had begun only two days prior, and Pala had her goods packed in a basket ready for market. The stand she rented was near the edge of the busy food section and allowed her to get a lot of shoppers on their way from picking out their meals for the day. She’d found it made people more willing to buy from her when they already had a few bags of vegetables or meat in hand with spare coins rattling in their pockets.

A small child was looking at her mini sculpture of a mammoth when a familiar voice caught her attention. Her mouth went dry as she glanced up to see Argis walking toward her stand while talking to a redguard woman who walked with him.

She recognized the redguard as one of her few regular clients. The woman apparently worked at the Imperial Palace and found herself replacing many items that Titus Mede’s grandson broke. She’d found herself smiling just last week as the woman regaled her with a tale about the young boy’s antics up and down the halls of the imperial palace.

To see Argis with the woman sent a chill up her spine. Had the Thalmor figured out who Argis had been and did the Emperor still live?

“Brina!” the woman said, greeting Pala.

She smiled, unable to keep herself from grinning at her new name. A play on Briinah and a nickname for the popular Imperial name of Sabrina, worked perfectly to hide her true identity.

“Whitka, how are the Divines treating you?”

“Well enough,” she smiled brightly.

“Argis,” she said, turning to her companion. “I’d like you to meet Sabrina, the artisan I was telling you about.”

Argis smiled at Pala and held out his hand to greet her. Something in Pala twisted, wondering if he too would be able to recognize her, or if enough time had passed since their last meeting for him to be caught unawares. 

“It is a pleasure to meet a friend of Whitka,” he said with a grin.

“Just a friendly merchant,” she smiled back, taking his hand and shaking it properly. Though his hand was less calloused than it used to be, the same familiar friendship seemed to exude from his touch that had way back when.

His eyes squinted for a mere moment, as if he’d caught the familiarity of the handshake as well, but she brushed it off quickly, turning to ask Whitka about the Emperor’s grandson in order to distract the warrior.

“Has your charge broken another of my pieces?” she asked, making sure not to name names in the middle of the market place.

“No,” she laughed. “But I thought about giving him something from your stall for his birthday.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Pala smiled. “Do you have an idea of what you want?”

“I thought about a statue of his sign,” she said. “It would be nice, I think, to start a collection of star signs until he has one of every kind.”

“I don’t have anything like that right now,” Pala mused, thinking on her stocks and avoiding Argis’ eye. “But when’s the birthday? I could probably get ready for the day.”

“Two weeks,” Whitka said.

“That’s plenty of time,” Pala said. “check in with me in a few days and I’ll have a sketch worked up for ya.”

“That would be wonderful,” Whitka smiled. “Just don’t make it too expensive.”

“I’ll make sure you can afford it, Whitka,” Pala grinned.

“It was nice meeting you, Sabrina,” Argis said, bowing his head slightly toward her.

“Any friend of Whitka’s is a friend of mine,” she returned, hoping that he heard the sincerity in her voice. 

Seeing Argis again after all this time had set her heart racing. It was good to know he was still alive and living somewhere at least semi-safe. It seemed he had the same idea as she did, who’d think that enemies of the Aldmeri Dominion would willingly live in the biggest supporting city on Tamriel.

The next few days flew by quickly and Pala wasn’t surprised to see Whitka walking toward her booth on the next market day. Argis accompanied her again and Pala knew then that Whitka’s relationship with Argis had to be more than simple friendship. And she was happy for Argis, glad that one of them could embrace Mara’s gift in this lifetime.

“Whitka,” Pala said, after handing her current client a few septims in change for the bauble he’d bought. 

“Do you have the design ready?” she asked, looking anxious.

“Of course,” Pala smiled, pulling the rolled parchment out of her pouch. “Come over here and take a look,” she said, directing the couple to the side. She’d seen a mother and daughter eyeing the stall and didn’t want to lose the potential business by blocking the stall.

The sketch was done in pencil and she’d marked the various wood samples, so she wouldn’t forget which pieces she wanted where. She’d spent the better part of the past week tracking down merchants with the wood she needed. Some of it came from Hammerfell, some from Skyrim and some from Valenwood. In the end, the raw materials had cost Pala nearly two hundred septims. She’d dipped into the funds from the Whiterun collection, but Pala thought the investment would be well worth it.

“This looks amazing,” Whitka said, her fingers brushing over the illustration.

“I based the design off of a High Rock chess piece I once saw,” Pala said.

“How big will this be?” 

“A hand or hand and half,” Pala shrugged. 

“That will be nice,” Whitka said. “And you’re sure I can afford this?”

“Most definitely,” she smiled back. 

“It will be ready in a week?”

“Come back in five days, for market day. It will be ready then,” Pala said, with a grin.

“Thank you,” Whitka said, then started to drag Argis off behind her. 

Pala turned to face the mother and daughter and was quite pleased to see them interested in a small Lady medallion inlayed with green jade. The medallion was one of her better pieces and would bring in a nice little profit.

An hour or so later, when the stalls were beginning to close up for the night, Pala heard Argis coming up behind her with a small interrupting cough.

“Whitka’s friend,” she smiled politely. “How can I help you?”

“Could I look at the design again?” he asked.

“Sure,” Pala said, giving him an incredulous eye. She handed the design over and went back to packing up her last few statues.

“These trees don’t grow in Cyrodiil,” he said.

“No,” she replied over her shoulder. 

“Whitka will not be able to pay the import tax on this item, much less for the craftsmanship needed to fuse them together.”

“Nope,” Pala responded.

“Why lie to her then? Are you planning on calling the guard to turn her in for delinquency in payment?”

Pala turned suddenly, reading the look in Argis’ eye. He was worried about Whitka and intended to protect his friend.

“No,” she smiled, remaining calm. “The future emperor deserves something nice, does he not?”

“Of course he does.”

“Besides,” she said truthfully, ”The talk that will be generated over the piece will more than makeup for a low price now. I’ll gain the few extra clients and it will be as if she paid full price soon enough. Whitka has done a favor for me and I am repaying it with this gift. She will owe me exactly 10 septims for the statue, as if it were a piece of pine or oak. I would not ask her for anything more than that.”

“But this piece would be sure to fetch one hundred or two hundred pieces.”

“Perhaps more,” Pala admitted. “But my favor was great indeed, and a statue is small in comparison.”

“What favor is that?”

“It is personal, my friend. I doubt even she could understand what she has done.”

Whitka had unwittingly brought Argis back into Pala’s life, even if the man never learned her true identity, and had shown her that the two men had made the most of their new life. The happiness and protectiveness of her old friend for Whitka was clear, and that was better than anything Pala had received since she left the northern province of home.

He squinted his eyes at her, and she turned back to finish for the night. 

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, crouching to lock up the bottom of the stall. “I have a few errands to run myself before night falls.”  
   
****  
   
Almost like clockwork, Argis and Whitka returned five days later to retrieve the statue from Pala. 

When she saw them coming, Pala put up her closed sign and began packing her in-progress items away.

“What are you doing?” Whitka asked, when they reached her side. 

“Your purchase is paying my rent this month,” she grinned. “I’m going home early.”

Pala caught a glance at Argis’ purse on his hip, it looked like he was stocked for a large purchase. She wasn’t about to let him get away with it.

“Your statue, ma’am,” Pala smiled, unlocking the bottom of the stall. She pulled out the hide pouch and placed it on the stall top.

It took just a moment to undo the leather tie and reveal the work. She was quite proud of the craftsmanship, the way the different wood grains marbled together worked out very well.

“The wood comes from many of Tamriel’s provinces, so you can tell him that it is a way to appreciate all of Tamriel’s peoples,” she said with a grin.

“This is amazing, Brina,” Whitka said, her voice quiet with awe. “There’s no way I can afford this.”

“All I ask is ten septims,” she said, glancing up at Argis.

“There’s no way you mean that.”

“You’ve been a great friend,” Pala replied. “The first one I’ve had since arriving in the City. If this were regular wood, that is what I would charge you. So please, take this as a symbol of my thanks.”

Whitka squealed in delight and wrapped her arms around Pala’s neck in a hug that surprised both Pala and Argis, by the look on his face.

“Are you sure?” she asked, pulling away a moment later.

“Of course I’m sure.”

The warmth from the hug from Whitka and the smile from Argis kept her warm well into the night as Pala enjoyed the rest of her day off. The present set her back a lot in the end, she’d had to sell a couple gems from her secret stash to purchase the supplied, but it had been worth it to see their faces when she presented the gift to them.

A few weeks laterPala found herself sitting at her stall, just a few items out on display, while she worked on a couple pieces to replenish her stock. She had spent all her free time for the last two weeks working on the piece for the Titus the fourth, and needed a few new artpieces to entice old buyers back.

As the sun began to set in the west, a shadow moved over her spot and Pala looked up to see Argis standing nearby.

“The town will be shut down tomorrow in order to celebrate the regent prince’s birthday. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to find you during the celebration.”

“Is there something you need, Argis?” she asked, curiosity driving her.

“I want to invite you to my estate for dinner tomorrow. Whitka will be there, as she was given the day off, and I’d like you to meet my father,” he said.

She’d had the idea that Titus Mede II was still with him, but knew that his wording was meant to elicit a reaction out of Pala if it really was her.

“I would love to meet your father,” she said with a smile. “A man who raised you would certainly be a formidable creature.”

His shoulders remained straight as he looked down at her, clearly not expecting that response.

“He’s aged much during the past few years. I worry about his health.”

“It’s our job as children to care for our parents,” she said. “If mine were still alive, I’d do anything to keep them safe and healthy.”

“Indeed,” he said. 

She stood and packed her tools away in her bag, along with the few items she’d brought out to sell. 

“It’s getting late,” she replied. “I should get home.”

“Perhaps I could escort you home?” he asked.

“There’s no need for you to go into the poor district,” she said. “I will be fine on my own.”

He chuckled. 

“I suppose a woman living on her own in the slums would be able to defend herself.”

She shrugged. 

“It’s part of the life,” she said, embodying the mantra of many of the older women she’d met in the past year.

Argis nodded.

“Tomorrow then?”

“Where shall I meet you?”

“The gates into the noble quarter. I’ll be waiting around mid-day for you.”

“I don’t have anything suitable to wear to rub elbows with the rich,” she said, looking down at her clothing in what she hoped was shame. 

“I’ll arrange for a bath and some suitable attire,” he nodded. “It’s the least I could do after the favor you gave my Whitka.”

Her heart clenched at the loving way he spoke of *name*. It was good to see him happy. 

****  
The next day Pala cleaned herself off as best she could with heated water from her small fire pit. The large toothed comb she had worked out many of the tangles in her hair, but a true slum dweller would never be able to get them all out, so she left a fair quarter of her hair in a knotted mess. Ludvik would never believe it was really her, she thought wryly. And Odahviing would probably die at the sight of her. 

Pala laughed. Death by dirt, that may be a first.

When the mid-day bells rang, Pala locked up her small one-roomed shack and headed for the noble quarter. 

It didn’t take long for Pala to spot Argis and Whitka near the gates and went to greet the couple.

“I didn’t know you’d be joining us so soon,” Pala said to Whitka.

“Argis enlisted my help,” Whitka replied with a grin. “How do you feel about an afternoon of pampering, in thanks for the gift?”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were ashamed to be seen with a dirty old slum dweller.”

Argis laughed, bringing a familiar twinkle to his eye.

“No, of course not. But I thought most women liked to be pampered.”

“I’m not complaining,” she smiled, and followed them into the noble quarter. 

She’d only been in this part of the city once or twice, and it had been strictly in the shadows, when she’d been scoping out for Thalmor presence. Luckily it seemed that the imperial guards kept many of the Aldmeri Dominion away from the center of the Empire. 

An hour later Pala found herself in a well-decorated bathing chamber in a section of the room set apart from the steaming water. Whitka was doing something with Pala’s hair and giggling like a milkdrinker.

“You really should take better care of your hair,” the maid said, struggling with yet another knot.

“I don’t have the money for a proper brush,” she said.

“Then I’ll just have to make sure you stay on top of combing your hair out after this. I’m afraid I’m going to need to chop it all off and just start over.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Pala groaned.

“Perhaps not, but still.”

“Point made,” Pala smiled. “I will take better care of it.”

“Besides, how do you expect to catch a man with a rat’s nest on your head.”

“I don’t plan on catching a man,” Pala admitted.

“Don’t you? You can’t be a street rat all your life,” she said, then seemed to catch her words in her mouth.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean.”

“It’s alright,” Pala interrupted. “You were very lucky to get the job at the palace.”

“I can try to get one for you.”

“I will think about it,” Pala said, trying to stay gracious.

“What about you?” she said, twisting the conversation after a few awkward moments. “You and Argis seem incredibly close.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I think he might still be in love with a woman from Skyrim.”

Pala balked, but thankfully Whitka was behind her.

“Have you seen the way he looks at you?” Pala said, feeling bad for causing Argis pain. “The man is in love with you, not some nord floozy.”

“He spent time with a woman a few years back that was very special. I cannot hope to top her accomplishments.”

Pala swallowed, if Whitka was this open with her, who else had she told.

“Who was this woman?”

“A thane,” Whitka shrugged. “Argis believes she died during a dragon attack. But I won’t dare ask if he was ready to move on.”

“Trust me,” Pala said with a small smile. “He is ready to move on with you.”

It wasn’t much longer before Pala was walking into the dining hall of the estate with Whitka at her side. The large table was already set and ready for the feast.

Pala’s first glance at Titus was a shock. Either the surgeon had severely aged the emperor, or it hadn’t succeeded the way they’d planned.

“Good evening,” he said, standing to walk over to her. “I am Argis’ father, Gratian.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she replied. “I am Brina, the woodcarver.”

“Argis told me all about your generosity to Whitka.”

“She is a friend I would do anything to help her.”

Whitka grinned beside her.

“You have lived well,” Pala said, turning back to face Titus.

“We make do with what we have,” he said. “But I miss the old country.”

“Skyrim is a beautiful, but cold, land,” she said. 

“You’ve been?”

“Indeed. I’ve crossed into the Nordic province a few times.”

“How very surprising,” the man said. 

“It helps in my line of work, to see where my materials come from. I apprenticed one summer in Markarth,” she said.

She could feel it when Argis turned to look at her, hopefully, she thought, it would be enough that he thought maybe he’d seen her on the streets of his home.

“I did not know you’d been to the stone city.”

“I was very young,” she said. “And very impetuous. I doubt you’d recognize me from that silly girl.”

The night went by quickly after that as Pala paid close attention to the once Emperor of Tamriel. He seemed to be mostly healthy, but decades frailer than he had been when she last saw him. Argis had been a good support, but leaving family like he did, it didn’t surprise her to see the haunted look in his eyes.

****

 A few months passed and winter was impinging on Cyrodiil, when Argis showed up at her door unexpectedly. 

“Gratian is asking for you. There’s not much time.”

She nodded. The old man had gotten a cough a few weeks prior and Pala had watched as he quickly became bedridden. Her guilt over lying to the two men had grown considerably and she’d resolved herself to tell the ex-emperor the truth the next time she saw him.

Pala followed Argis into the noble quarter and to the estate they rented from the crown. Argis’ title as champion in the tournaments had grown him quite a nice profit.

The sun was just beginning to set when she walked into Titus’ rooms. 

“I’ll give you some privacy,” Argis said, closing the door behind her. 

She crossed the room quickly and fell to her knees by his bedside.

“I’m glad you came,” he said, his voice raspy. 

She nearly cried out, hearing the amount of liquid in his lungs. It wouldn’t be too long now, she thought.

“Anything for you,” she said.

“You can call me Titus now, I think,” he whispered.

Her head whipped up. 

“I’ve known it was you since our first dinner together.”

“Argis?”

“He believes you to be familiar to him, but no, he does not know that you are Dovahkiin.”

She relaxed a bit. 

“I’m so happy that you found us, I was never able to thank you for your part in my escape.”

“I only did what I thought was right.”

“You gave this old man the gift of extra life. You gave my life meaning. And I’m glad to see you finished your task.”

“I wish I could do something for you,” she said, picking up his cold hand and holding it in her own.

“You’ve done more than enough. It is I who owe you the greatest debt for saving my life.”

A tear escaped from her eyes unbidden.

“Do not cry, dear one,” he said, a cough ripping through his chest. “I fear that I must ask for one last favor from you, dragonborn.”

“Anything,” she said, taking his hand in hers. 

“Do not let the Dominion take over the continent that I’ve loved. And tell Argis the truth, let him move on.”

She took his hand and nodded. 

“I will, Titus,” she said, and leaned over, dropping a kiss on his cheek.

He closed his eyes and his breathing rattled through the room. Her heart broke as she waited for the pause between breaths to become permanent. With that last gurgling breath was taken, Pala squeezed the hand she held and let out a small sob of anguish.

Argis must have been nearby because he appeared at her side just a moment later. If he heard anything, he made no indication of it.

“He’s gone to Sovngarde,” she said, keeping her voice as level as she could.

Argis placed a hand on her shoulder and nodded. There were preparations to make now and lies to explain.


End file.
